By His Father's Will
by PP-FSOG-DJC
Summary: Previously Bewitched and Beguiled ** IN THE PROCESS OF A COMPLETE OVERHAUL... Mr Darcy's and Miss Bennett's paths cross as children and a decision made by both their fathers play a big part in the rest of their lives? Rated M for lemons. OOC AU HEA
1. AUTHOR'S NOTICE

**Just a note...**

 **This story has been taken down and I am in the middle of rewriting it. Chapters will be added back over time.**

 **If you have not yet finished the original, I am sorry. I had the warning up on the main summary since 27th October and although I understand some readers may have come to this late, I cannot postpone indefinitely.**

 **With regards to this story, the following has been changed:**

 **Elizabeth is a year older, so in 1811 she is already 21.**

 **Richard Fitzwilliam is the Viscount as there is no older brother. Richard is the only son of the Earl and only spent a short while in the army.**

 **Wickham's character is OCC due to a childhood incident. He is not the scoundrel we are all used to, therefore Georgiana was not pursued with a view of elopement.**

 **Elizabeth is an only child, I wanted her to end up on her own with no one immediately around her, so there is no sisters or mother.**

 **Bingley is a bit of a cad, but as there is no "angle" he is allowed to sow his wild oats freely without hurting a certain guinea blond goddess.**


	2. Blackguard, Be Gone

**January 1812**

She sat by the window, watching the colourless sky open itself to the earth, and so spilling its sorrow and grief. The tears of the world pummeled against the window panes as mother nature's lacrimal secreted her melancholy onto the lands. The mistress could do nothing but observe the grounds, which were now obscured by the happenings that Natura had influenced. Both their moods were of a sombre disposition, and she believed it to be the great mother's sympathetic reaction to her predicament.

"My home," she aired only unto herself, "how wrong I was to think I belonged here." She slowly shut her eyes in an attempt to shield the present from her thoughts of the past. She let an almost silent whimper of remorse escape when she recollected the happiness of the previous months. At the time, she had felt blessed to have married such a kind and generous man, with whom she had fallen so passionately in love. She had been sure he felt the same, even though neither had declared their feelings to each other beyond the physical state of their marriage bed. She had hoped, though, that he had come to feel the same as she. Hope did not reward her with the relief of her yearning, but her new cognition had replaced such desirous want by the stark reality that now filled her conscience.

How foolish she had been.

Her eyes opened once more to a blurred haze. Her self now defying the will to be strong, as it had done since she fled his study. She had shut herself away in the mistresses chambers, hoping to not have to see him, for fear of what would transpire in his presence. He did not love her. He did not want her. He only wanted Pemberley.

She knew that eventually, she would have to go to him, but not now. Now was the time to observe the droplets as they trickled down the glass covered aperture that shielded her from the elements outside. This time was not for him, and she did not wish to think of it all. She only desired to think of the cloudburst that had so violently infected her thoughts, so much so that it had almost washed away the heartache.

Almost.

But who was she fooling? It still lingered there, like an infected wound that would not heal.

The tip of her finger ran the length of the small pane only inches from her face, drawing a line which mirrored a single tear from the heavens until it pooled on the wooden sash bar. Her finger rested on the inside of the same said bar and, she could do no more than watch as it merged with more secretions from above.

"Oh, father... Why?"

* * *

 **Autumn 1790**

Comparable to most expectant fathers, Mr Bennet had sat in the parlour at Longbourn since before dawn. Waiting with patience as he had done two years previously, concentrating for the first cries of his second child.

This baby had been much anticipated, for the Bennets had lost their first born to a severe bout of croup the year previous. The master and mistress were inconsolable when the little one passed, but the situation of being heavy with a child in the belly once more had eased their despair to some degree. Jane, however, would never be forgotten, for she was so much loved by both parents and would always have a place in their hearts.

The birth was a difficult one, as this bairn was more significant than its sister and Mrs Bennet found the labour debilitating. As the house grew quiet, Mr Bennet knew that things were not entirely as they should be. His wife's cries of pain, which had plagued him for several hours, had now dampened into silence. Within a few minutes, he was relieved to hear the delightful sounds of the child. A robust and healthy cry that ebbed and flowed around his anxiety and thus purging his restlessness away like a sweet lullaby.

Joyous he was to be a father once more, he eagerly stood from his chair when the door to the parlour opened. "Is it a boy?" cried Mr Bennet, at the thought of gaining a male heir. Dr Nash stood in front of the master for a few moments, uneasy at the news he was about to deliver. "I am terribly sorry, sir, but we could not save your wife." Even with several decades behind him in his profession, the doctor never found it easy to deliver such sadness to the husbands in waiting. This announcement was no less painful than his first, even if the child had survived.

"What‽ No it cannot be! My wife is dead‽" cried he as he collapsed. "No, she cannot be gone. Are you sure? You must be wrong!"

"Your wife died whilst trying to give birth. The baby was stuck, and it was just too much for her. The amount of blood she lost. Her body could not cope.

"I took it upon myself to separate her from the baby. There was no time to ask for permission, for we would have lost them both. Mr Bennet, I know that it is a difficult time, but your daughter."

"Daughter?" was his only reply. With a significant amount of confusion, he looked up from his place on the floor. He could see through his hazy vision, the bundle in the doctor's arms. It was moving slightly, and gurgling sounds were emanating from the bountiful of cloth that the baby was swaddled in.

"Yes, your daughter. We managed to save the child."

* * *

 **Spring 1796**

Mr Bennet knew he would never marry again, for he had been deliriously happy during his short marriage to Constance. He scrutinised what his life would be and had foreseen a future without another companion to share his laughs, his woes, and most of all a family with.

He had come to terms quite early in his mourning state that his home at Longbourn, under the conditions of the entailment, would pass directly to another male family member. With the lack of a male heir, the property, which was worth two thousand a year, was entailed on a great uncle, Mr Cecil Collins. Upon Mr Collins' demise, it would then pass to his son, William. Either would have the benefit of his home once he was gone and his daughter's situation would be dire indeed.

As Mr Bennet sat in his study one morning while going over his ledgers, a thought crept upon him. _Why am I doing all this? Mr Collins will be the one to reap the rewards? Elizabeth will have nothing._ He put down his parched quill, which had lingered for some considerable time while he was in thought and called for his steward. "Daniels. Are you able to manage the estate for a few weeks? I wish to take a tour of the country and spend some time with Miss Bennet."

"Aye sir, I can keep the estate running, if you wish. If any substantial works need doing, what would you wish for me to do?"

"If it is a case of the thing falling apart or falling to the ground before I return, then get it repaired. If not and it can wait, then do not touch it. I am now determined to not waste funds unnecessarily… Oh! And if you do need to repair, do it to an adequate standard that will only just outlive me," he replied. The steward initially looked puzzled, but then recollected a conversation he had had with the master a few weeks before.

Making his way to his daughter's bedchambers, where she was playing with her toys, Mr Bennet asked, "Lizzy, I think we are in need of a trip. What do you say about taking a tour around the country?"

Elizabeth furrowed her brow in deep contemplation and replied asking if they could leave at once. She was consumed with excitement as she pulled her toys and clothes from the closet, in anticipation to pack her trunk. To the old squire's amusement, this included her particular jar she used to keep insects in when she ventured outside.

Mr Bennet chuckled to himself as he observed the little one scampering about, looking for things to take, but had to stop her before the contents of the room culminated into chaos. "Do not be too eager, Lizzy, we have yet to get the trunks ready. We will go on the morrow, after breaking fast." With that, Elizabeth smiled, grabbed her skipping rope, and went into the garden while leaving Mrs Hill to tidy her things away again.

* * *

It was early morning, about a fortnight into their excursion and while touring the neighbourhood of Derbyshire, they came upon a situation that could not be ignored. A group of highwaymen had stopped a very imposing carriage two hundred yards in front of them. The blackguards had halted the vehicle for the sake of lightening it of its load and dare anyone who would stand in their way, for they were sure to get a bullet for their interference.

Mr Bennet was outraged at seeing this. Their carriage had already pulled over out of sight some distance from what was occurring in front of them. As he removed himself from the vehicle, he turned to Elizabeth and whispered, "I am just going to get out for a while, Lizzy. Please, can you get under the seat and pull these blankets over you. Do not make a peep."

Ensuring that his daughter was well hidden and that the driver had been instructed to remain and keep the horses quiet, he cautiously made his way towards the group ahead and pulled out his pistol.

As he closed in on the villains, he took aim at the agitator amongst them and pulled the trigger. But due to failing eyes, Mr Bennet missed the man, and the bullet ricocheted off of a nearby tree into the direction of the woods. The blackguard's horse started and the highwayman, in a panic, took aim and shot in return before fleeing from the scene. His associates quickly followed him back into the thickness of the woods, and they were gone. Luckily, the horse had been thrashing around, and the aim was weak, so Mr Bennet was left collapsed on the ground with a bullet to his leg.

The occupant of the imposing carriage was a well-known gentleman, who had recently been widowed himself and left to bring up his two children, Fitzwilliam who was thirteen and Georgiana who was yet one. The gentleman's wife had passed away six months previous to a fever. She had become weak after a difficult pregnancy with her second child, and due to her weakened state, recovery was denied. Mr George Darcy was the proud owner of the Pemberley Estate in Derbyshire and was well respected by all the local villagers. However, the prestige that such wealth brought him, also came with the uneasiness of being such a rewarding catch for the nefarious bandits, who frequently laid in wait.

As soon as the highwaymen were out of sight, Mr Darcy jumped from his seat in order to assist his rescuer. Mr Bennet was on the ground in agony when the gentleman reached him. The servants were panicked, fretting at the vulnerability of the master. "Sir... Mr Darcy! You must return to the carriage; it is not safe out here. They could still be lurking in the trees and come back out when you are in such a vulnerable state." They were frantically rallying around after him in an attempt to return him to the safety of the vehicle, but he would not have it.

"By Jove, man! Get off me! Can you not see that this gentleman has taken a bullet for us? If he did not, we would have all perished! Help me get him to his vehicle so we may examine his injuries."

Mr Bennet was assisted back to his small carriage, but upon opening the door, a demure cry was heard coming from a bundle of blankets in the corner. He pulled away at the course fabric, to reveal a little brown eyed girl with a head full of mahogany curls. Seeing the surprised look on the master's face, Mr Bennet made the introduction. "May I introduce my daughter, Miss Elizabeth Bennet. We were touring the area when we happen to come upon you."

"You are travelling with a child? Sir, you are in no fit state to continue. At the very least, let me offer you the safety of my home and the assistance of a physician to address your wound. My home is but four miles from here. It is the very least I can do for you."

"I think that would be best, for I cannot continue on the road as I am. My daughter is somewhat distressed over the whole incident and a haven for a short time will do us both good. Not to worry, Lizzy, papa will be fine."

Mr Darcy and his servant made Mr Bennet comfortable on the forward facing seat next to his daughter, then instructed the driver to follow. He returned to his carriage, where the elder of his two children sat patiently waiting with a manservant. "Do not worry yourself, Fitzwilliam, all the bad men are gone, and we are directly for home. Mrs Reynolds will be wondering where we are. I will arrange for some fruits to be picked from the hothouses, so you can have a special treat for being so brave today," he soothed as he endeavoured to calm his son's nerves.

"Thank you, papa. Is the chap in the carriage behind hurt badly? It is fortunate he was here when the highwaymen stopped us and that he had a pistol. Those things are loud! Can I have one for my birthday?" Fitzwilliam asked, ever hopeful his father would relent and allow him his weapon of choice.

Mr Darcy shook his head. "I do not think so Fitzwilliam. Maybe when you turn sixteen you can have a hunting rifle and only under strict supervision, will you be allowed to use it."

The squire promised himself that he would employ another groomsman immediately, who was capable of shooting between the eyes at a fair distance. He was not going to let this happen again.

Once settled at Pemberley, the physician arrived and saw to Mr Bennet's wound. He cleaned, stitched and dressed his leg the best he could and advised the patient that he was lucky the bullet did not meet with any bones. Rest for at least two weeks was recommended and his recovery would take about a month to six weeks. In that time, he was urged not to overexert himself.

* * *

A couple of weeks later…

"Ha! I bet you cannot do that!" stated Fitzwilliam, enthusiastically.

"Of course I can! I can do anything you can do, Fitzy. You know I can. _Even if I am just a girl."_

"You can climb a big tree? Like that oak, over there?" George verbally jabbed.

"Yes. Why ever not? I do at home, _Mr Tricky-Wicky,"_ she said as she poked her tongue out at the master's friend.

"I'll race you then, Lizzy, for I know I can beat you to the tallest branch," demanded George.

"All right!" she said with a smile. "Ready… set… go!" And with that, they ran to the nearest tree and clambered up into the branches and so leaving the young master behind, but it was not long before Fitzwilliam could hear a distant scream.

As he ran towards the clump of trees, he saw Elizabeth standing over the boy, who had fallen from one of the oaks. "Help! I cannot move!" George cried as the pain took hold.

"Lizzy! Go back to the house and get papa to fetch someone. And ask them to send for the doctor," Fitzwilliam instructed.

Elizabeth ran as fast as she could on her little legs. When she reached the house, she cried out in the vestibule for anyone to help. "Someone come quick! George has fallen out of the tree!"

"What on earth is all this? What has happened?" asked Mr Darcy as he rushed out of the parlour.

"George! He… He fell from a really tall tree and is hurt. He cannot move! Get a doctor!" she implored.

She ran out of the house with Mr Darcy and a footman following behind, to where the boy was lying. "Good God! Let us get him back to the house. Edward, be careful," he said to the footman, who had picked the youngster up in his arms.

Doctor Peters confirmed that George had broken his leg in two places as well as his hip bone. He gave the lad tincture of opium and called for immediate bed rest after his leg was fixed with a splint. The doctor insisted that the boy remain in bed and not to move for at least three months.

"But I cannot stay in bed for all that time," grumbled George.

"You have little choice, young lad, for you cannot walk. It is impossible to walk on such fractures, and you will do more harm than good if you try," answered the doctor, stoutly.

"Will I die? And if not, will I be able to walk again?" George asked, thinking that the damage might be life-threatening.

"You will not die… Well, not under my care. And yes, you should walk again. There is, however, a minimal chance that you may have a limp, or need a cane. But there is nothing to say you will not be running about in a year's time."

"A year! God, how am I ever to bear such tedium!" But he had to put up with it, no matter how much he complained.


	3. Tadpoles, Ringlets and a Bond

The children were told to wait downstairs while the physician attended the injured boy. As was the want of young children, Elizabeth became disquieted due to the day's events, and Fitzwilliam was unable to attend to her agitation, which had increased due to her belief that this would be the demise of Mr Tricky-Wicky. "He is going to die. I know he is. It is all my fault," she cried.

"Lizzy, it is nobody's fault. He fell, and it was an accident."

"But…" she could not bring herself to finish before the floodgates to her emotions opened once more.

"Now now, do not go upsetting yourself, Miss. Master George will be as right as rain in no time," Mrs Reynolds stated as she came into the morning room after hearing Elizabeth's turmoil.

"He will not die?" she stopped, blinked several times before looking up at the housekeeper through her wet lashes.

"No, of course, he will not. He will need some time to heal though."

"I think he has broken his leg," Fitzwilliam stated as a matter of fact. "Did you see the angle it was in, Lizzy? All bent out of shape. It was almost backwards." Another wave of wailing came from the little lady, and Mrs Reynolds gave the young master a very stern look. She was not impressed. "Sorry."

The children were ushered out into the garden, where they sat at the table on the veranda. With a vast quantity of sweet treats and Mrs Reynolds soothing tones, Elizabeth's worries had been diminished to a slight concern. Fitzwilliam had been silently chastised for his insensitivity and boorish words. "Do you think he will be scarred?" inquired Elizabeth as she stared into her glass, scrutinising the stray lemon pip which had taken to swimming about on the surface of her beverage.

"I doubt it. George wasn't cut. I think you only scar when you are cut," replied Fitzwilliam.

"I did not know that," she stated as she put her cup down on the patio table and edged towards the pile of strawberries sitting on a silver platter. "Do you have any scars? I have one on my knee when I fell over last year. It hurt, but papa made it better with a mending kiss." Elizabeth pulled up her skirts in a very unladylike fashion to show her friend the mark upon her knee. It was small and hardly a scar in Fitzwilliam's eyes, but he did not say anything for fear of upsetting the lass again.

"I have one on my throat that runs down to my chest… see," said he as he pulled his cravat sideways and parted the keyhole opening at his neck. There stood a three-inch long scar upon his throat and chest.

"How did you do that?" Elizabeth gasped upon seeing the reddened mark, which still needed time to fade.

"Earlier this year. I was running through the woods, and I did not notice the branch of a tree and ran into it. Needless to say, the thing attacked me, and I was cut before I could stop myself. It was just my luck that I had left my neckcloth off that day. If I had not, I would have been spared the pain. I did have a few scratches on my face, but those did not leave a permanent mark. I had to have stitches on this one," he explained as he proudly pointed to his battle wound.

"Does it hurt?"

"Not now, but it did at the time. The most painful part was the doctor stitching the thing up. Blood everywhere," he added with a grimace.

"Ergh! Yucky!" Elizabeth fretted as she turned her back to him, then added, "Do not say anymore Fitzy, for it is just too horrible."

* * *

 **Three months later**

It took the entirety of the summer for Mr Bennet to regain full use of his leg, as age had slowed down the healing process. During that time, Elizabeth had become good friends with both George and Fitzwilliam, even though there was quite a difference in age between the youngsters. Fitzwilliam thought her an angelic creature at first, but soon discovered that she was far from a sweet girl one would have presumed of a gently bred daughter, and more in line with a tearaway tomboy from the local village.

"This is mine now," proclaimed Fitzwilliam, with an air of victory. He had filled up the container and held it high into the air so that Elizabeth could not reach.

"No, it is not! The contents may be, but the jar is mine," Elizabeth begged to differ as she jumped around attempting to grab his hand.

"But it's holding my pond scum. How else am I to get it back to George, so that he can see what I found?"

"I do not know. Maybe you should use your silly hat," Elizabeth giggled. "I do not know why your papa insists on you wearing that triangle thing. You look like a pirate."

"How do you know what pirates wear? I bet you have never seen one."

"No I have not, but papa has a book on pirates and snugglers, and they wear those hats."

"Smugglers."

"That is what I said."

"No, you did not. You said snugglers. Regardless, this is a tricorne, Lizzy. It was father's, but he let me have it as they are no longer fashionable. He won't mind if I ruin it."

"Good! He won't mind you holding your pond scum in it then?" Elizabeth smiled triumphantly. She would get her jar back.

"It will not hold water. It will soak through the material. Maybe I should pour it over your head instead. What a laugh that would be," he said as he edged closer to her with the open vessel.

"Fitzy! Stop it now!" He grabbed her arm, but Fitzwilliam did not anticipate the bite he received.

"Egads, Lizzy!"

"I told you to get off, did I not?" She stood in front of the master, determined and unmoved.

"That is not very ladylike. You shouldn't bite."

"And you shouldn't threaten to pour pond scum on my head. I do not want tadpoles wiggling about in my ringlets," she replied with her hands on her hips and pouting her annoyance at the young master. Her chastisement, however, brought on such a joyous laugh from Fitzwilliam that his father stopped attending to business in the library and looked out over the garden. At last, the liveliness had returned to his son. Something he had not seen since his mother died. _Oh, to see my boy laugh again._

"So are we going to show George?" asked Fitzwilliam.

"Suppose," Elizabeth agreed with a shrug of her shoulders.

The children ran into the house and up the stairs to where George was resting. Bursting into his room, Fitzwilliam cried out, "Look what I have!"

"I helped, and it's my jar they are in," added Elizabeth as she bounded in behind the young master.

"What is it?" George asked quizzically. His nose wrinkled as he tried to determine what it was. All he could see was a jar filled with green liquid and a few weeds.

"Tadpoles," both confirmed at once.

The pride on the two visiting faces were evident, but George was disgusted. "Ergh! Get that away from me before you spill it on my bed!"

Fitzwilliam placed the jar down on the table beside him, so that George could look at it later. "How are the legs?"

"So-so. The doctor said I could start the exercises tomorrow. He is sending someone over to show me what to do for a few days until I am confident to do them on my own. Then he will visit weekly to see my progress. I am a bit scared to be honest, as I haven't got out of bed for nearly three months and I cannot remember how to walk."

"What do you mean? Surely, you can remember," asked Elizabeth, "You just put one leg in front of the other, and you move along," she explained as she took large stomping steps across the room to demonstrate. "Left, right, left, right."

"That would be right, left, right, left, Lizzy," Fitzwilliam explain to correct her error.

"Oh. Well, what do you expect? I'm only six."

"You are five."

"It is only a matter of a week. I'm nearly six then if you want to be a _Mr Fitzy Fussy-Wussy Pants._ _"_

"Hu-humm. I'm still here, you two. If you want to bicker, can you do it later? You know Mr Darcy only allows you in here for a short while each day and I don't really want to spend it listening to you arguing about who is five or six. And to be honest, I feel like a fifty-year-old crony, so there!"

"Gosh! That's ancient," Lizzy stated. "Do people live to that age?"

"I'm sure they do. Your father looks older than fifty."

"No, he does not. He is only sixty, so miles away." Fitzwilliam rolled his eyes.

"You two!"

"Oh, sorry."

"Lizzy, I have not walked for three months. People forget apparently. The doctor said so and advised me that I will have to learn again."

"So, no climbing trees for a while?" she pondered aloud as she twisted her mouth to one side and scrunched her brows together while deep in thought. The idea of not being able ever to climb trees again was not welcoming.

"No, I will not be doing that again, ever. I think my tree climbing days are long gone."

"I am sorry Tricky-Wicky," apologised Elizabeth, on the verge of tears.

"Why are you sorry? It was me who fell. It is not as if you pushed me."

"No, but I bet you."

"Do not worry about it, Lizzy. I did not blame you, even when I was in pain."

* * *

A fortnight later, Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth had ventured out to the lake once more. But this time it was with the intention of catching a trout or two. "Do you fish at home?"

"No, we do not have a pond."

"This is a lake, silly."

"What is the difference?"

"Erm? I do not know. It is bigger than a pond, I suppose." he said, unsure of himself.

"Well, whatever it is, we do not have one."

As Fitzwilliam was about to reply, the line pulled. He had caught something. "Lizzy, help!" he yelled as he struggled to hold onto his catch. She grabbed at the rod, just below the master's hands and pulled. On the second yank, the fish managed to unhook itself and escape, which promoted both children to tumble backwards. Fitzwilliam had fallen onto the soft grass, but Elizabeth had fallen onto a soft Fitzwilliam. "Ouch!"

"Sorry," she said as she struggled to get up, but only proceeded to elbow the master in the nose.

"Ouch!"

"What is all this?" a voice full of humour was heard not far from them. Leaning up, Fitzwilliam gazed back at his cousin, who had just arrived.

"Richard! You have come calling."

"Looks like it. What in the devil are you doing? And who is this?" he asked looking at the bundle of pink frills and ringlets beside his cousin.

"This is Miss Elizabeth Bennet, but you may call her Lizzy."

Elizabeth looked up at the boy, who was around the same age as her companion. "Nice to meet you, sir," she stood and greeted with a deep curtsey, but ended up falling onto her rump, which made both boys laugh. Richard bowed and introduced himself, as his cousin had not been courteous enough to finish the introduction.

"Father brought me here as he had some business with Uncle George. I wanted to see how old Wickham was doing, so I joined the convoy."

"He is upstairs in his bedchambers. He is bored senseless and longs for the day that he can at least come down and sit outside."

"He's not even allowed out of his room?"

"He's not allowed out of his bed unless he is doing his exercises," Lizzy interjected.

"Then I bid we all go up and pay him a visit." Both Fitzwilliam and Richard grabbed one of Elizabeth's hands and pulled her to her feet, as she was still sitting on the lawn. As they walked back, they both grabbed an arm and lifted her off of her feet as they ran back to the house, giggling.

"Look who we found downstairs," the master said as they came into the boy's room.

"Richard!" George said with a grin. He had not seen the cousin for a few months, as they had been in London for the season and arrived back at Matlock a fortnight previous.

The four spent the following hour doing what children do. George had even suggested the four make a bond. A secret pact. "Lizzy will not be here for much longer, and I think we should all make a sort of agreement. We can be the Pemberley Secret Society, loyal to one another and let no outsider take us down!" he exclaimed with an air of victory.

"And how do you propose we do this?" Richard asked. "Draw blood?" he was joking, but Georges' eyes lit up.

"That is not such a bad idea. Maybe we can all be blood brothers."

"But I'm a girl. I wouldn't be a brother," she stated with some confusion. "What is a blood brother, anyway?"

"We bond through shared blood."

"You mean I have to drink your blood?" she gasped.

"No, we make a small cut on our palms and hold each other's hands. If we form a circle and cut each hand, we can share each other's blood all at the same time."

"But that will hurt."

"Oh, being a milksop now, Lizzy. I thought you were tougher than that," George bid.

"I am, but I do not like the idea of being cut, and it will scar. Fitzy said cuts scar."

"It will be tiny. Like the one on your knee."

"You have a scar on your knee?" Richard asked. "Where?"

"I do not care to show you. You will see my legs."

"But Fitzy has seen your legs. Why can I not?"

"I only just met you," she stated firmly.

"So are we doing this?" George asked. All agreed the bond was made, Elizabeth cried, and Fitzwilliam gave her a mending kiss on her palm."

* * *

Mr Darcy was happy to see the youngsters enjoying themselves. His son was acting his age again. Fitzwilliam had been rather out of sorts since his mother had passed away and even with George around, he was still melancholy at times and was caught staring into space with such a forlorn expression upon his face. His present companion had been a welcome distraction for him. Elizabeth's father, on the other hand, was rather embarrassed at his daughter's lack of decorum, "I am so dreadfully sorry for how my daughter is behaving. I believe it is my fault. She has not had a constant female role in her life to guide her, and I have not checked her enough. She is my little treasure, and I have coddled her far too much and let her get her own way."

Mr Darcy was in good humour, "Nonsense Thomas, she is now six years old. Let the child have her adventurous fun now, while she still can. The time will soon come when she will have to conform to proprieties and act accordingly. Besides, her company has done wonders for my son, who has been of late not himself."

Mr Darcy had also enjoyed Mr Bennet's company immensely. They had shared common interests, and there were many an evening after the children had retired to bed, where books or politics of the day were discussed. A firm friendship had formed over the weeks, and both men had benefited from the companionship.

* * *

On the last week of their stay, Mr Darcy called his friend into his study, as something had been plaguing his mind, which needed to be discussed. "Thomas, may I speak with you on a matter of great importance? It has come to my attention that my son and your daughter have formed a childhood alliance. I know you told me of the entailment and that your estate will not pass to her. I wish to help."

Mr Bennet sighed, "How so George? There is nothing that can be done. We have looked into the paperwork, and it cannot be broken. If only I had fathered a son, then all would have been well. But poor Mrs Bennet, god rest her soul, died giving life to my little girl and I could not bring myself to marry again."

Mr Darcy looked slightly hesitant before he spoke once more. "I mean to suggest a pre-arranged marriage between our two children. Fitzwilliam to marry Elizabeth and so securing her future. I can see they get along and if it were not for you, neither myself nor Fitzwilliam would be alive. I am indebted to you... See this as some form of repayment for your courage and kindness towards a stranger."

"But you cannot expect your son to marry my daughter! We are to return south, and it is doubtful their paths will cross again before they are adults."

"I do not wish for them to meet. I think we need to keep this to ourselves if we agree to an arrangement. Let the youngsters have their fun before they settle," stated Mr Darcy.

Mr Bennet could not sleep that night. He looked at his daughter in the cot across from his own bed and thought about how her life would be like without him around. There was no one to entrust her to when he was gone, and anything could happen. Was he going to take a chance that she marry for love before his demise?

He knew that his late wife's family might step in, but there was no obligation to do so. It was only an assumption on his part that they would come forward and assist when the time came. Besides, he had rarely seen them in the past few years as his brother-in-law's resemblance to his late wife was too greater an ordeal for him to handle. The only other relatives were estranged after they had moved to Scotland many years previous.

The funds he had managed to save for Elizabeth's dowry were decent, but the accumulated amount would by no means support her for a lifetime, even if they were invested in the five percents.

During his sleepless night, Mr Bennet had made his mind up. He would agree to Mr Darcy's offer that their son and daughter be united in matrimony. At least this would guarantee her security if she did not marry another in the meantime. There was one clause, however, which was a requirement. Elizabeth had the final decision on the matter and could walk away with a clear conscience if she did not wish to act accordingly to her father's wants. He would also ensure a note would be placed into his Will, indicating that if the situation were to arise just after his passing, she would not need to oblige in those rituals associated with the mourning period, and therefore allowing her to marry immediately.

* * *

On the morning of their departure, Elizabeth was inconsolable. She did not want to leave Pemberley and Master Fitzwilliam or George.

"Please, papa. Can we not stay until Christmas?"

"I am sorry, sweetheart. It is time to return to Longbourn. Poor Mrs Hill will have forgotten what we look like and I would imagine Charlotte is missing you dreadfully."

With some enticement, Elizabeth allowed Mr Bennet to lift her into the carriage, and they were off, bound for home.


	4. Lady Catherine de Bough

It had been a little over a month since Mr Bennet's departure from Pemberley. Mr Darcy was busy in his study looking at some plans for one of the tenant's properties when he heard a commotion in the vestibule. A voice that he had come to recognise and dread had just echoed about the marble hall and pierced his ears. Lady Catherine de Bough had entered the building and was demanding to see the master immediately. He felt his stomach sink as he pondered on the reason for her appearance. Why would she make an unannounced visit if it was not of a serious nature?

Without giving the footman chance to announce the austere lady, she barged her way into the study and brought forth a thick uneasy atmosphere. "Where is he? Where is my brother?" she commanded at the top of her well-developed lungs before looking around the room for his presence.

"Ah! There you are. I would appreciate it if you would favour me with some of your time. I wish to discuss a matter of great importance, for it cannot be delayed."

"Yes, Catherine. Please sit down. Is Anne with you?"

"No. I have left my daughter at Rosings with her governess. She does not need to bear witness to this discussion. Where is Fitzwilliam?" asked Lady Catherine as she looked around the room in utter disdain.

"He is upstairs with George Wickham in the guest wing. The boy is not well."

"Good. I do not care for Fitzwilliam to hear what I have to say," Lady Catherine replied as she sat down on a nearby chair. "I have heard reports of an alarming nature that reached me last week. That you, dear brother, have arranged for Fitzwilliam to be married to a country girl from Hertfordshire. I have come with the intention of having this report entirely contradicted."

Mr Darcy looked at the lady sitting before him, wide-eyed and a face like thunder as she waited for his acknowledgement. An acknowledgement that he could not give. _She is not going to be pleased with what I have to say, but say it I must._

"Whoever told you that?" he asked with a quivering voice. He knew he was digressing, but thought he would still be able to get out of this quagmire. Then he noticed the lady's expression turn choleric at his apparent deviation. _God! She is angry. How can I get out of this? I will just have to tell her._

"It does not matter how the information came to my attention. I came here today to be satisfied that this ludicrous notion is not true."

"I am sorry to have to tell you that the rumours are accurate," he flinched. Closing his eyes as he put his head down, he waited for the impact of her wrath.

"So you admit that this arrangement has been agreed! Even though you were in the knowledge that Anne and I planned our children's engagement from the cradle."

"I have no knowledge of this fact, Catherine. Other than your insistence on telling me time and time again since Anne's passing, I had not been informed. My wife did not divulge any details of this arrangement, and I have in recent months concluded that this is all a ridiculous notion, which you have concocted. It seems rather coincidental that you have only repeated this on numerous occasions after had Anne passed away."

"What! I shall not endure this from you, George! I expect you to revoke your cruel words immediately!" she exclaimed. "How dare you insinuate that I, Lady Catherine de Bough, have made this whole thing up. I am not a scheming fishwife! Now, please tell me once and for all that you will make things right and break with this agreement."

"I will do nothing of the kind, Lady Catherine de Bough. Fitzwilliam is _my_ son, and _I_ shall decide what is to happen to him, not you! Even if it were such that Anne had agreed to this scheme, I would not have. _I_ am head of this family, and _my_ word is final." He took a deep breath and continued in a more sedate manner. "Anne is a sickly child, and I doubt she would be able to give my son an heir. He needs a strong wife who will be able to give him children. You know full well that Anne has a weak heart, which she has had from birth. Do you wish for your daughter to die in childbirth like your sister? I will not be swayed from my decision."

"This will not do! It cannot happen! Are you to go against the dear wishes of your late wife and her sister? The arrangement has been in place for years. I cannot… I will not accept this."

"But you have little choice other than to accept it, as this is _my_ wish."

"I will not accept it! You have not heard the last of me, George. I will fight you over this."

"I do not think you will Catherine, for there is nothing you can do. I suggest you leave and think about what you have said and more importantly what I have said. I will not be swayed. Fitzwilliam is indeed to marry Miss Bennet, and there is nothing you can do about it. I may add that if you approach the Bennet family, I will see that it is within my powers to have you committed. Your insistence on spreading such nonsense is nothing more than a scheme. A scheme that has got out of control, Catherine. It is unhealthy for you to speak on this matter constantly. I hear you have discussed this at every opportunity, to anyone who will listen since Anne passed away. You need to take control of yourself before you end up with hysteria."

"I am outraged at this, George. I can see no other option than to cut all ties with you and your family. It is obvious that I mean nothing to you as you have shown great disrespect towards myself and your late wife's memory by going against our wishes. I can only hope that Anne is not turning in her grave. Dear god! If she were alive today, she would never forgive you!" At this, Lady Catherine stormed out the door. "I am most seriously displeased," were her last words before quitting the house.

Mr Darcy sat down with a sigh. He was exhausted. All the energy had been drained from him by one woman's scorn, but at least it would not rear its ugly head again. He did not wish for the family to break up over such matters, but he was adamant that he would not give in to his sister. The notion of this arrangement was no more than a fantasy she had conjured up. It was farcical. His wife would not have agreed to such matters without talking to him first. No, he must stick to his guns and if Catherine was never to see them again, then so be it.

* * *

"Good God, Fitz, who is that?" George asked as they listened to the muffled argument downstairs."

"It sounds like my aunt. She does not realise how loud she is. Richard calls her _'The Foghorn of Kent.'"_

"He does not want to say that in front of your uncle or father. He'd get a clip around his ear for being so brassy."

"Oh, he has already been caught out by Uncle Henry. Got a whipping for it, although uncle does tend to be rather soft with his punishments and he did not notice the wad of papers Richard had stuffed down the back of his breeches."

"Can you make out what she is saying?"

"No. But Father is arguing back. I hope it is nothing too important as I get rather nice presents from Aunt Catherine. She got me a horse last year."

"Was that Neptune? He is a fine specimen, I must say."

"I hope she is not demanding him back. I would be most upset if I lost him."

"I doubt she would ask for a horse to be returned, especially if it was a gift… Go to the top of the stairs and find out what they are saying."

"I cannot spy on them, George. It would not be gentlemanly."

"You are not a gentleman; you are a gentle boy. Those morals do not relate to you yet. Now go," he said as he pushed the master off of the bed.

Darcy reluctantly walked into the corridor and stood at the top of the stairs. He could just determine the odd word but was able to decipher that his aunt wanted his father to renege on a promise.

"I am outraged at this, George. I can see no other option than to cut all ties with you and your family. It is obvious that I mean nothing to you as you have shown great disrespect towards myself and your late wife's memory by going against our wishes. I can only hope that Anne is not turning in her grave. Dear god! If she were alive today, she would never forgive you!… I am most seriously displeased."

Fitzwilliam darted back along the corridor and into Georges room. "She is leaving."

"What did she say?"

"I could only make out that she is upset with papa about not doing as she and my mother had wished. I do not know what that is, but Father was adamant that he would not quell his own decision."

"Does that mean she will not come visiting at Christmas?"

"I do not know. If aunt is as angry as she was today, I doubt it."

"Lizzy wanted to be here for Christmas. We had better make sure we write her a letter before then, wishing her a happy occasion."

"Yes, we must. I received a letter last week, which needs a reply. Shall we write to her now?"

George nodded, and Fitzwilliam went over to the small writing desk, to start the correspondence.

* * *

The following few months saw young George take his first steps. He found the process difficult but was eventually able to manage to bear his weight. He had the use of two canes, and for a short period at a time was able to get around within the confines of his room a few times a day, but no more.

The doctor seemed concerned at the slow progress of the young boy. He had done the directed exercises each day, but he saw little improvement over the course of several weeks. At this thought, the doctor requested an interview with Mr Darcy. "Sir, I have been with George the past few months. I hoped that the exercises after his spell in bed would have helped, but I can see only a slight improvement. It is not as I would have liked and I am concerned that there is now a likelihood that he will have difficulty walking again. At the very best, I fear that he will be permanently in need of canes and will only be able to manage a few yards at a time. He could improve a great deal more with perseverance, but we should prepare ourselves for his current situation to be his lot."

"I was worried this would happen. I have seen the pain on the boy's face when he has tried to do the exercises. I suppose he will have to continue with them and we have to hope he will improve. Do you think there is a chance he will walk unaided? Or will he be dependant on a chair of some sort? I want your honest opinion." Mr Darcy blanched at the thought of the young man being unable to move without the use of someone pushing him around in a makeshift contraption. The idea of the boy being cut down in his prime was heartbreaking to the man who had cared and protected him since his father had died. He had failed George, and it was his duty to make sure that if things did not progress, he would support him for the rest of his life.

"I hope it will not come to a chair," sighed the doctor. "It may be that the hip is taking longer than the usual time to heal, or it could be that his muscles need building more. I am afraid, however, that it is more likely that the hip bones have not aligned themselves correctly and therefore not healed in the right way. If that is the case, then he will find it difficult to walk for the rest of his life."

"We need to continue with the exercises, even more so now. I will not give up on the boy and have him bound to a chair. We have to hope he improves. I owe it to his late father."

"Very well, sir. I will ask for one of my assistants to come on a daily basis. George knows what to do, but the assistant will encourage him more and hopefully, his healing will improve faster with help."

"Yes, I agree."

* * *

Over the next year or so, Elizabeth, with the help of her father, wrote to Fitzwilliam regularly. However, during the latter months, Fitzwilliam's letters had become increasingly sporadic. Mr Bennet tried to explain to his daughter that the young master was now of an age where he had to attend to his studies more and did not have the time to write. Elizabeth wrote a few more missives but then abandoned all hope as they did not produce a reply. In reality, Fitzwilliam was now of an age that he had nothing in common with a seven-year-old girl. He was just turned fifteen and doing what ordinary boys of that age were doing. Pulling pranks with the lads about the estate and innocently flirting with the local girls in the village of Lambton, something of which was very much to Mr Darcy's chagrin.

After the demise of the correspondence between the youngsters, Mr Bennet chose not to mention their time at Pemberley again. Elizabeth had been very young at the time, so her memories of that summer began to diminish until they were nothing more than odd images, which flashed into her mind when she was least expecting it. It was best to leave it in the past, as somehow he had the feeling that they would never need the assistance of that family. Just by looking at his daughter, he knew that she would grow into a beautiful, vivacious young woman. Her kind nature and promising beauty were enough for him to believe that she would marry for love and not out of necessity.

* * *

Several years past and the Bennet house was a peaceful and calm place to live. Mr Bennet had paid particular attention to Elizabeth's' accomplishments, knowing that she could be a mistress of a magnificent estate if she did not find her own happiness in life. He ensured she had the best governess he could afford along with a decent dowry. Although a dowry was not a significant concern, if she were to become Mrs Darcy, Mr Bennet felt the need to save for the possibility of her own choice of a husband. If that did not come about, then he would be able to at least participate, in a monetary sense, to the arrangement he had made with the northern gentleman. He could not sit idle waiting for the Darcy family to pick up the pieces after he was gone, so fifteen thousand pounds had been saved over the years.

Both fathers had decided from the start that it would be best not to divulge the agreement that they had made, for it served little purpose to tell the children. At such a young age, it had little meaning, and neither would be able to comprehend the situation. Mr Bennet also secretly wished for Elizabeth to enjoy the chase of a suitor and possible marriage to someone that she had chosen herself. In Mr Bennet's eyes, the young Mr Darcy was nothing more than a potential marriage of convenience and only as a last resort. He would not stop his daughter from marrying another if she fell in love with a respectable man who could support her and a growing family. If that happened, who was he to stand in her way? Mr Bennet did, however, continue communications with the old Mr Darcy. Stating throughout that the agreement for the union was still what he wished for, even though secretly he would encourage other suitors when she was out in society. In turn, Mr Darcy had revised his Last will to include the marriage arrangement. This, he hoped, would ensure that his son honoured his father's choice in a wife.


	5. Last Will and Testament

1806 was the year that old Mr Darcy passed away. A sudden unknown illness had taken him from this realm before his time. His rapid departure had sent the House of Darcy into turmoil.

Fitzwilliam had graduated from Cambridge the previous year, and following the closure of his education, he had declared a wish to take an extended tour of the continent before assisting his father with business. But two months after his return, his father was gone. The stark reality was that Fitzwilliam, all but three and twenty, was now the head of his household, the squire of the manor, and the one single person to whom hundreds of tenants and staff looked to for their livelihood. His responsibilities were significant, and the burden of such fell onto the shoulders of an ill-experienced young man. He had little training, as Mr Darcy believed he had years left in him, but fate can be cruel and years turned into only a matter of a few weeks. As luck would have it, Pemberley boasted of a good steward by the name of Mr Harvey Jones. Jones had been employed for many years and was able to mentor the untried master with ease, as his pupil was quick to learn and eager to fulfil his duty, even if it was with a certain amount of timidity that Darcy could achieve what his father had become.

Shortly after Mr Darcy's demise, the family solicitor contacted the new squire to gather the family members for the reading of the Will. Fitzwilliam, in turn, ensured that his uncle, aunt, and Richard were present, along with George Wickham, who was now residing in a cottage on Pemberley grounds. The family gathered the following Wednesday, in the drawing room.

"To The Earl and Lady Matlock, I leave the Chippendale Armoire from the blue room. I know that Lady Matlock has had her eye on that particular piece of furniture for a long time. I hope you enjoy it, Cecilia." To this, the Earl pulled a face as he hoped for the contents of the Pemberley Cellars.

The solicitor continued, "I also leave my horse, Cyclops, to the Earl. Henry, he is a beast of an animal so please pay particular attention when you are atop him. Otherwise, he may become disgruntled and throw you off." To this, the Earl chuckled thinking he could easily handle that thoroughbred.

"To Richard Fitzwilliam, my nephew, I leave my trusty fob watch, in the hopes that he will keep better time. Richard, the short time you spent in the army has not made you any better at not being late for events." The Viscount smiled as he remembered the day when he was so late to a Pemberley function, that he turned up the following day. It was months before the family ceased teasing him by discussing the whole blunder in the presence of guests at dinner parties and balls. By this time, Richard was getting excessively frustrated with his kinfolk's jibe. This last little dig by his late uncle, however, made him chuckle.

"If I were allowed to continue with my military career, I would have eventually learned," he said jovially.

"But I will not have my only son on the battlefield. You are my heir, and there is no spare to take your place if some nobody were to stick a blade into you. I did not even know what you were up to until you had been there for some time," the Earl stated as a matter of fact. "You made excuses that you were going here, there, and everywhere when in fact you were over in France doing a duty that you should not have to do. I just thought you were going through a phase of dallying around. Your mother would never forgive me if I had not intervened."

"And demanded I sell my commission before my time. You must have pulled a few strings there, father. I suppose, at least I should be grateful that you increased my allowance," he laughed.

"Do you begrudge me to spoil my boy?" The Earl smiled. Even though the man was formidable, he still had a soft spot for the Viscount.

"No, father. The more the merrier, I say," Richard snickered.

"Can we get back to what we are here for please," Darcy asked. "We can have this family discussion later if you wish. I do not think this is the time nor the place."

"Sorry, Fitz," Richard apologised.

Mr Pearce continued, "It is also my firmest wish that he, along with my son, Fitzwilliam Darcy, be co-guardian of my daughter, Georgiana Darcy. This arrangement is to continue until she reaches her majority or takes a husband."

Richard and Darcy agreed and tipped their heads in acceptance to each other. They were very close as cousins, and both had Georgiana's best interest at heart.

"To George Wickham, I leave a total of twenty thousand pounds to be held in trust by my son, Fitzwilliam Darcy. This money is to be invested and will provide a decent monthly income for you, George. The small cottage at Pemberley, where you currently reside is to remain your home along with a carer to assist you in your daily activities. A cook, maid and manservant will be employed to attend to the household duties. Any future doctors bills are to be paid for by the Darcy family. This arrangement is to continue regardless of whether you regain the use of your legs or not. If there is a desire to move, the Darcy head of the family will be expected to pay for a new residence, wherever you wish to live. In the event of you marrying and starting a family, a larger residence should be offered, either on the Pemberley estate or a new property purchased elsewhere with estate funds."

Darcy breathed a sigh of relief. "I am glad father catered for your needs. You have not had it easy since the accident, and I was worried that he would not leave you anything in his Will."

"Mr Darcy treated me like a second son, Fitz, and to be honest, I saw him as a father figure after my own papa died. I will miss him terribly," he choked as his voice broke on the last few words.

"We all will. I will make sure you want for nothing. Do not worry about that score."

Now the solicitor turned to Georgiana, who was sitting quietly next to her brother. "To my daughter, Georgiana Darcy, I leave a small selection of the family jewels, of which are listed in appendix one of this Last Will. The rest form part of the remainder of the estate. She will also receive thirty thousand pounds as a settlement upon her marriage or when she reaches her majority if she still is unmarried."

Georgiana started to cry. She knew that the jewels included her mother's favourite necklace, which was one she had admired whenever her father would get the jewels out of the vault to check. Darcy comforted her as best he could, but he was barely holding it together himself.

"To Lady Catherine de Bough, I leave the total sum of one guinea. She does not deserve such a large sum, but as my wife would not wish for me to leave her own sibling out of my Will, I have therefore decided to leave the poultry sum in order to clear my own conscience."

"Oh, dear Lord! What did uncle George do to upset Aunt Catherine?" cried the Viscount.

"I do not know, but I remember them having a disagreement. You remember George?" Darcy stated.

"Yes, I ushered you out onto the landing to listen. We still did not find out the reason behind their discord."

"I think you may soon find out, Fitzwilliam," said the Earl, who had been made privy to the arrangement before the old master died.

The ending of the Will had arrived, and Darcy braced himself. "Lastly, to my son Fitzwilliam Darcy. As previously stated, I leave co-guardianship of Georgiana Darcy along with Richard Fitzwilliam, my nephew. The remainder of the estate is entailed to Fitzwilliam Darcy on one condition."

Darcy's head snapped up at hearing this, which startled Georgiana. He was not aware or expecting any criteria levied upon his father's Will. He listened carefully as the solicitor continued. "It was agreed many years ago, that a union between my son, Fitzwilliam Darcy, and a Miss Elizabeth Bennet would come to pass. Both Miss Bennet's father and I agreed to the match in the weeks following that terrible incident, where he was left wounded by gunshot.

"That man saved myself and my son from highwaymen, and I have been indebted to him ever since. As his estate is entailed away from his only daughter, I suggested the union so that she would not be made destitute on his demise.

"Fitzwilliam… Miss Bennet's future happiness is in your hands. If it were not for her father, I would likely have been killed. There was also a probability that you would have perished along with me. Mr Bennet drew a gun on the man, and for his bravery, he was wounded.

"I have been in correspondence with the lady's father over the past several years and understand that she has turned into a beautiful, accomplished young lady. I am sure Miss Bennet will make you an excellent wife.

"If in the event she should marry another of her own choosing or refuses your hand, then this clause will become invalid, and the estate will remain your property. However, Miss Bennet will have to be contacted in order to sign an affidavit to confirm she had not been coerced into her decision or her marriage with another. In the event of her demise, the clause will become null and void.

"Please note that Mr Bennet has a copy of this Will in his keeping, so he is aware of the contents."

Darcy just sat there staring at the solicitor, not knowing what to say. He was just about to complain when the solicitor continued, "If you see fit not to honour my agreement with Miss Bennet's father, the estate will be transferred to Georgiana Darcy on your thirty-fifth birthday. Please note that my solicitor, Mr Pearce, has all the information that you will require in order to establish contact with the young lady."

Darcy shot to his feet, "That is ridiculous! How am I to marry someone I do not know. For all we know, she may have little enticement, no accomplishments, no connections, be of inferior birth and be an absolute bore. Heaven forbid if she has a face like a badger's arse, and she is to be the new mistress of Pemberley?"

The Earl shook his head in disbelief. "Fitz, language! There are ladies present. I do not see why you are saying you do not know her, as you do. If she has no connections or inferior birth, they meant nothing to your father. She is a gentleman's daughter if my memory is correct, so you are safe in the knowledge that you will not be marrying outside of your circle.

"I seem to remember you were quite happy during those months she and her father stayed at Pemberley. You had previously drawn into yourself following your dear mother's passing, but Miss Bennet brought you back to life again."

"Uncle, I was thirteen, and she was six, we were children, and we did what children do. How do you expect me to respond to the situation that I now find myself? To marry someone whose condition in life is decidedly beneath my own. Yes, she may be a gentleman's daughter, but he was a lowly squire with a minimal income and no social status in town. Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of her connections, which I assume are equal to hers, or worse, in trade? I can imagine that her dowry is a pittance!" he said with cold civility.

"Fitz, you have more money than sense, so you do not need her dowry. Whatever she has will mean nothing to you in the realms of things as you have enough income to enable you to live as you please three times over."

"So, is this what Aunt Catherine and father disagreed over? The issue that ripped the family apart? Did she try and stop the arrangement?"

"Yes, but your father would not be moved. Lady Catherine wished for you to marry Anne, but Anne was, and still is sickly. She would not have provided you with a much-needed son."

"She kept to her rooms mostly when I visited earlier this year," Richard stated. "She has grown even more feeble. Each year I attend, there is another thing wrong with her. I do not know what will happen to Rosings once Aunt Catherine passes, as I am sure she will outlive her daughter."

"Richard! You must not think like that!" Lady Cecilia exclaimed.

"But I am only saying what everyone else is thinking. Anne will not live past the next five years, I am sure of it. She would have made Fitz an appalling choice of bride. One night with him and she would have been comatose."

"That is enough!" The Earl was not happy. His son held his hands up and apologised to the ladies for being so brash.

"Getting back to my own dilemma. Elizabeth Bennet may be an unfortunate choice for a bride. She may be sickly herself or be hideous or even disfigured."

"Hey, Darcy! People cannot help what comes their way."

"Sorry, George. Present company accepted, but how on earth will I bed someone who may look like a… a… PIG!"

George snickered.

"Dear God! Can you hear yourself, boy? She may have grown into a beauty, for all you know. Then you will eat your words. Do not be so proud and dare I say stubborn, for you have yet to meet the girl as she is now."

"Well, she can wait until I am four and thirty! Hopefully, by that time she would have found her own husband. I will not need the information to her whereabouts, Mr Pearce, I will leave that for when I have to act upon my father's idiotic request." After his rant, he stormed out of the room in anger, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

After the Matlocks took their leave, Wickham entered the study, where Darcy had hidden for the best part of the afternoon. "Darce, do you want me to pour you a drink?" asked Wickham.

"If you would not mind, thank you... Where is Georgiana?"

"Mrs Reynolds took her back upstairs to her governess. She thought that her lessons would distract her from what happened earlier."

"Do not start, please. I have had enough for today."

"I will not say anything. It is as much a shock to me as you, and I can understand your reaction. I think I would have done the same. All I will say is that if you do marry, your happiness is of your own making. You will only experience wedded bliss if you allow yourself to."

"What do you mean by that?" Darcy asked, puzzled at his friend's words.

"What I mean is, if you choose to hate her, then you will never like her, let alone love her. Keep an open mind, and you may grow close.

"Some arranged marriages work. My parents had one, even though they were not of the gentry. It was a bit like your situation, two fathers arranging the union during childhood. My paternal grandfather was best friends with my maternal grandfather, and they agreed to it while out drinking one night. My mother always teased her papa, telling him it was a drunken mistake. Little did he know that father and mother loved each other very deeply during their short marriage."

That night, Darcy lay in bed going over the events of the day. How could his father make such a promise to someone he did not care about and hardly knew? To put his life into such restraints was something to which he could never forgive. "Father, why did you do this? You have ripped the happiness away from me, and all on a whim. You could have at least told me what you had done," he whispered aloud, hoping his father could hear him from beyond the grave.

As he closed his eyes, he tried to think of what Elizabeth looked like back in the summer of '96. All he could remember was dark curls and piercing dark brown eyes that sparkled in the warmth of the sun. He attempted to imagine her likeness now, but it proved fruitless.

Before drifting off to sleep, he made a promise to himself. He would not even think about Miss Bennet for the next ten years if he could help it.


	6. Netherfield Park is Let at Last

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Mr Bennet knew of the old master's passing, as Mr Pearce had been given prior instruction to correspond on the old squire's demise. Initially, Mr Bennet had wondered why the young man had not attempted to make contact, but quickly inaugurated his suspicions that Fitzwilliam Darcy was still rather young, and his new station in life left him without spare time to correspond, let alone visit. The loss of a parent and also having to deal with being schooled in estate matters would have been a tremendous pressure upon the lad, and nearly all of his hours would not be his own to do as he wished. Mr Bennet, therefore, chose to leave it a year or so before he approached the young master himself. Mr Darcy, on the other hand, had filed his father's Will away, in the hopes of never having to act upon his request. He prayed to God Almighty himself, that a suitor would come calling on the estate in Hertfordshire and sweep the woman off of her feet in eternal matrimony.

Within the year, Mr Bennet's own health started to deteriorate, and Elizabeth had begun to notice the oddest of situations occurring. Household items were discovered in fantastical places, and her father's forgetfulness was increasing to the point of making illogical decisions. Foreign objects were out of place due to his inadequate sagaciousness that he now exhibited, and when questioned, Mr Bennet just stared at the item with curiosity.

The most heart-wrenching occasion was one Sunday morning, not long after Elizabeth had turned eighteen. Mr Bennet had made his way into the breakfast room and stopped before he reached the chair at the head of the table. "Why is there only two places set? Your mother will be down shortly. Where is she to sit?" He hurried out to Mrs Hill, who was busy in the pantry and demanded she lay another place for the mistress. Elizabeth followed when she heard raised voices and requested that she do as her father bid. Later that day, Elizabeth had the task of gathering the servants to make it be known that her father was not well and they must follow his instructions, even if they seem of a peculiar nature. They must all sympathise with his cause.

She had heard of mental illnesses occurring as folk increased in years, and many ended their lives imprisoned in an institute for the infirm, while families got on with their lives. Her father's behaviour had not impacted so much so that it could not be controlled, so she chose not to call the doctors, who would have persuaded her to send him away. In any case, there was little they could have done, other than commit him to a life of solitude, and she would never allow that for someone whom she cherished most in this world. She, therefore, assisted him in any way she could, employed a nurse to ensure he was taken care of at home, and allowed him the clemency that a dearest papa deserved.

* * *

 **Spring 1811**

"Sir, Mr Bingley is here to see you," Gladstone announced as he entered the breakfast room at Darcy's townhouse.

"Send him in, and can you have another place set for Mr Bingley," said Darcy as he pointed to the chair to his left.

"Yes, sir." He bowed and allowed Bingley to enter.

"Darcy… Erm?… Sorry. I did not realise it was so early," stated Bingley while looking at his fob watch.

"It is not. I retired past three in the morning, so arose late. Do you care for something to eat?" Darcy offered him a chair.

"Would not mind, ol' chap. Been on top of my horse since sunrise and not had a chance to break my fast."

"Oh yes, you saw that estate in Hertfordshire, did you not? What did you make of it?"

"I signed the lease last night. Mr Henderson was persuaded to reduce the annual rent by a few hundred pounds, I got it for a song," he smiled. "The estate is nowhere near as grand as Pemberley, but it is good enough and very well situated, with being so close to town. The woods embrace half of the estate, and the remainder has adjoining fields. There is a decent sized park surrounding the house with an orangery to the rear and a kitchen garden to one side. The staff who were retained during its closure were able to keep the gardens stocked, and to my delight, the orangery is full of ripening fruits and flowers. The lawns are preened to an inch of their lives, so Caroline will enjoy having the outdoor space to entertain her friends when they come into the country. It suits me well."

"I am glad it does. You need to settle in one place now you are getting to a certain age. You cannot go round forever from town to town, playing the happy dandy. So when do you move in?"

"Signed the papers this morning, so it is mine now. I will wait a couple of weeks until everything is ready. Even though there was a bountiful of Holland sheets, it still needs a good clean and airing. The kitchen and cellars need stocking too. Darcy, do I ask too much if you would be my special guest when I take up residence? Caroline will also be staying, for she wishes to try her hand at hosting. I did say after a few months we could hold a ball, but I am not sure I will be ready for such a large event. Well, it is more of a worry that Caroline will be in charge of so much of my cash. She insists on holding the purse for such events."

"I would like that very much. Georgiana is staying at Pemberley for the summer months, so am at your disposal. I may, however, head into town when business arises, or return north to be with my sister if she writes requesting my company."

"Maybe you can ask Miss Darcy to join us if it pleases you."

"I will think on that, Bingley, but I prefer her to stay at home during these hot months. She does tend to suffer in the heat, and it is far warmer in the south," he said while tugging at his overly tight cravat.

* * *

Netherfield Park had received its occupants a sennight previous. It had been a productive week, where the men had spent most of the days inspecting the ledgers and visiting the tenants so that Bingley could introduce himself. Caroline Bingley, however, thought the county rather dull and dreary and wished them all to be back in town. "Go back then, Caroline. No one is stopping you," said Bingley after his sister had turned irksome for the third time that morning, and they still had yet to finish breaking their fast.

"I do not wish to return to town. I will stay, Charles, as you need me to look after you." _And Mr Darcy,_ she thought. _He needs my particular attention, and maybe he will see how caring I can be as a hostess._

"I am sure the housekeeper can do that."

"And I am sure she will run riot with your purse strings. Charles, you need me to oversee the servants with a firm grip. Do you wish to be charged by Meryton's butcher for a side of beef when you only received a haunch?"

"They will not do that, surely. Have faith in humanity, Caroline."

"You are far too trusting. Every servant will cheat you, and you will not even notice their deceit. They will smile to your face and grab at your coins as soon as your back is turned." The two footmen who were standing at the back of the room glanced at each other in disbelief. Did the woman think all those below her station were scoundrels? And did she not care that two of those supposed scoundrels were standing behind her?

"Caroline, you always treat those who are not so fortunate as us as though they are all thieves and vagabonds. They are decent hard working folk, willing to serve you for a pittance. You are in luck that you were born into wealth and not some lower classed maid having to contend with scrubbing floors and empty the mistresses chamberpot. Could you do their job for a portion of your allowance?"

"What has that got to do with anything? I treat my maid well enough. She is adequate in her task, and she knows where her loyalties lie," she said in an attempt to defend her principles.

"And so will everyone else, if you give them some respect."

"Respect?! How so, brother? Am I to say please and thank you when it is our purse which is keeping their families warm, our food which is filling their bellies, and our acceptance which is allowing them employment in the first instance."

"Good grief! Have you listened to yourself? Anyone would think you were the Queen of Sheba, with the way you go on. Besides, it is MY money, not yours. I do not see you dipping into your allowance, which incidentally is from my funds, so that you may employ your maid."

"Barbaric savages," she responded under her breath.

"If you wish to stay, then stay. But please can you refrain from this constant agitation. You will upset the servants, and then I will be left with a house I cannot manage because you have grieved the entire service and they have left… Darcy, are you riding out tomorrow morning?" asked Bingley to change the direction of the conversation, for he was at his wits end with his sister.

"Yes, I plan on leaving at first light. Why?"

"Oh bother! I missed you this morning as you got up at the crack of dawn. I wanted to join you, but if you are going that early again, then I may change my mind. It will be a late evening tomorrow, and I doubt it would be courteous to fall asleep during Mr Beveridge's Maggot."

" _Not to mention downright dangerous. You could end up falling on top of some damsel,"_ Darcy laughed. Bingley just grinned at the thought. A lovely soft body to lay upon would suit him well, but then he would have to marry the wench due to his having compromised her. At least he could do that in the privacy of a whore house, but not in the middle of an Assembly ball. Heaven forbid!

"Oh, the Assembly," Caroline huffed as she stabbed her butter knife into the preserves.

"Caroline! Look what you are doing!" chastised Bingley, then continued, "You know I despise fatty residue in the marmalade."

* * *

Darcy woke early the following morning to a chorus of warblers in the trees. He loved this time of day, as the only sounds to be heard ventured forth from the wildlife. The spring months were the most pleasant, as they brought with them a bountiful of song to the countryside.

As he rode his steed across the fields, he felt free, unrestrained, and without a care in the world. He rarely had a chance to venture far whilst in the south of England, for he was usually ensconced in his townhouse under a pile of papers. Now, while in Hertfordshire, he could imagine himself back home as he rode across the land.

As he reached the top of a hill, he looked out onto the county below. Bingley had mentioned that there was a spot high up called Oakham Mount. He had to smile, as he had envisaged a monumental mountain, but what he found was an adequate hill. The region was nothing compared to the untamed beauty of Derbyshire with its peaks.

As he urged the horse into a canter, the animal was startled by a flock of geese that had taken flight. The horse panicked at the loud squawks and Darcy was thrown to the ground with a thud. He lay there for a short while, while he regained his bearings. The fall had knocked the wind out of him, and all he could see were stars. Luckily for him, Bingley had changed his mind and chosen to ride the same route. Noticing the thoroughbred in the distance, Bingley picked up speed and reached the animal quickly.

"Darcy! Whatever has happened?" he cried out as he ran over to where his friend was lying.

"Neptune reared and I fell. I am well enough now, Bingley. Just get me to my feet." As he stood, the pain shot through his back and it took all his effort not to black out.

"Let me ride back and get the carriage. You cannot return on horseback." Darcy reluctantly agreed, and within half an hour, both men were back at Netherfield Park, and the injured party was put back to bed after having taken some powders.

 _At least I will not be going to that dreadful ball,_ Darcy thought as his eyes fluttered shut as the medicine took hold.

* * *

The assembly was at the peak of activity when the new tenants entered the assembly hall. As per usual, Caroline noticed the increase of feminine whispers filled the room. She sighed out her frustrations at having to witness the typical packs of matchmaking mothers and their desperate daughters again, hoping to get their claws into her brother, who seemed to be oblivious to the townsfolks' reaction. _No,_ she thought, _it would not do. You can not have him._

Sir William Lucas was directly by Bingley's side and formally made introductions. "May I introduce you to my daughter, Miss Charlotte Lucas and her dear friend, Miss Elizabeth Bennet." Each of the party made the formal gesture of greeting to the other, and all but Caroline fell into comfortable discourse.

"So, how do you like our county, Mr Bingley?" Charlotte asked with a slight redness to her cheeks that Elizabeth did not miss.

"I find it delightful. The landscape is beautiful indeed and such pretty occupants," he replied as he gazed upon Elizabeth.

"I am sure my father will be pleased to be associated with good looks, although I believe he has never been described as beautiful," Elizabeth teased. "I doubt anyone has complimented him in such a way in a very long time."

"Oh, I mean… Oh, dear. I—"

"Charles. I would like some punch. Can you fetch me a glass," Caroline stated, rather than asked. She knew her brother had a tendency to speak before the words had formed in his mind. Even though the attendance at the assembly did not need to be impressed, she knew that letting her brother choke on his own mishap would only make her cringe to the point of annoyance.

As the new tenants moved to where the punch bowl stood, Elizabeth turned to Charlotte, "I do believe you blushed."

"I do not know what you mean," she said in an attempt to deny her attraction.

"You cannot fool me, friend. I have seen you act as such before. Only it was Mr Mathews, the apothecary, and you were all but fourteen years old."

"Oh, Eliza. Do not tease me. I am not soft on Mr Bingley. He is far too young anyway."

"Age is irrelevant when it comes to a good match. I am sure a man would have no qualms about marrying a bride twenty years his junior."

"But that is how society is. I noticed he looked at you a great deal."

"I noticed it too. I dare say Mr Bingley liked what he saw, but he will have none of that with me."

"Are you afraid he is a dandy?" gasped Charlotte.

"I do not know, but I will not be finding out. Charlotte! He is already talking to Mrs Long's niece. Look at his eyes. Look at where they have landed!" observed Elizabeth as they watched Mr Bingley's gaze cast down to the lady's substantial bosoms.

The evening drew on, and Bingley had danced many dances. Elizabeth and Charlotte were first to grace the dance floor with the new tenant, then came the daughters of mothers who nudged their way towards the newcomers. Caroline spent most of her time standing around, wishing she was at home where she could nurse poor Mr Darcy.

At the end of the evening, the Bingleys returned to Netherfield Park. The brother was happy that he had made such a good choice in a location to settle, and the sister wished to venture back to town, where the Hursts had remained.

* * *

The gentlemen and lady had sat down for an early breakfast several days later when something of a revelation had caused Darcy some alarm. "I will be calling on some of the neighbours this morning. I would not mind getting to know some of the daughters of the local squires while I am in the country. There were some charming ladies at the assembly. It was a shame you could not attend, for there was one in particular. Very fine indeed. You could almost describe her as beyond handsome. She was divine. A very tolerable companion, I must say," he verbally gleed with a twitch of his brow that only Darcy comprehended.

"You astonish me, Bingley. What happened to that freckled creature in town last month you were attempting to court?"

"Miss Amelia Musgrove? The banker's daughter? She was not to my liking after all. Luckily, I had not made an offer for her hand before I realised I would have made a tragic mistake."

"What do you mean? Her father is wealthy. I heard her dowry was five and twenty thousand pounds and you thought her remarkably handsome at the time. You could do worse."

"Yes, but he also could do better," Caroline interrupted before her brother could explain that the woman refused to allow even a lingering kiss before the ring was on her finger. "Besides, Charles is only three and twenty and has years before he needs to settle down."

"Oh, I could see myself settling down here, for Miss Elizabeth Bennet is a delight. Last evening, I had found myself meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman could bestow. She was positively radiant at the ball."

"What?! Charles, you cannot be serious. That country bumpkin from Longbench… Longfarm… Oh!" she huffed as she could not remember, or chose to forget, the name of the estate.

"Longbourn," Bingley sighed.

Darcy nearly choked on his toast, but with the assistance of a rather hard slap on the back from his friend, he managed to settle.

"Are you well, ol' chap?"

"Yes, sorry. I breathed in when I should not have." _Oh dear lord! Miss Elizabeth Bennet lives in this neighbourhood?! Yes, this is Hertfordshire, and Longbourn was in this county. There cannot be more than one Miss Elizabeth Bennet at Longbourn in the vicinity, so it must be her. What am I to do? I cannot stay for fear of meeting her, but what excuse can I make to return to town?_

Looking down at his post, he noticed a letter from his attorney. He opened it to find the standard list of transactions that the man had undertaken on his behalf, which only needed a signature and return. However, Darcy made use of it. Bingley had noticed the change in his friend's countenance. "Darcy, whatever is troubling you? Is your back still burdening you?"

"No, it is fine now. Bedrest did it a world of good and the prescribed potions help with the niggle of discomfort that remains. I have just received a letter from my attorney in town, requesting my presence with haste."

"Nothing seriously wrong I hope?"

"No, it is not serious, but needs my immediate attention, and I do not know how long I will stay, as the matter is in disarray. It may take some weeks to resolve."

"Weeks! But you must return to us once you settle this business in town!" projected Caroline.

"I am unsure. It will depend on how long this business takes me to complete. As my sister is at Pemberley, I would like to return home for a short while before the summer ends." He paused but was not sure whether to add the next, as he had no intention of doing so, but it may subdue a fretting woman. "Maybe, I will have a chance to return with Georgiana, but I cannot promise I will have time before the summer recess."

"Oh, yes! Bring dear Georgiana with you. It has been months since I was in her company. Oh, how I long to see her again."

"I will leave for London today. On conclusion of my business with Mr Pearce, I will head north and stay in Derbyshire, and if I have time, we will return."

As he made his way to his rooms, panic began to set in. _What if I have already met her along the lanes? What if she passed me by and neither of us was aware of the other_ _'_ _s existence? Do I care to meet her now? If only I could see her likeness without the risk of revealing my identity._ Darcy knew that this last thought was a significant risk. Even though he was not at the assembly, a stranger in the area dressed such as he was would be instantly recognised as the new tenant's particular friend. From what he could gather from his valet, all the women were waiting patiently in the wings to discover how handsome the gentleman of affluent means was. No, he would be outed forthwith and made to marry.

He put aside his curiosity of the woman in favour of the obscurity that the city would provide. For some reason, he felt the guilt begin to build as the carriage pulled away from the house. He looked back and saw the gates to the property disappear behind a sizeable bush, as it turned the corner and onto the lane which led to Meryton, then onto the turnpike which led to London. Was he doing the right thing in fleeing the area?

"If ever she discovered my true identity and the manner in which I left, she would be desperately upset," he said to himself. He sighed and sat back onto the plush upholstery of the seat with a despondent air, but his eyes were instantly drawn to a view outside of the carriage which left him somewhat stupefied.


	7. The Loss of a Father

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Elizabeth rose from her bed with as much effort as she could muster, for she had been up half of the night, tending to her father after taking a turn that sent him into hysteria. At the administering of some powders that Dr Simpkins had prescribed, Mr Bennet settled down enough to go back to sleep.

She gazed into the mirror, only to see a very pale reflection. Lord! I look like a ghost! At least now I am fashionably pale. She dismissed her appearance as something she would just put up with for now in order to ready herself for the day. On entering the breakfast room, she saw her father sitting at the table breaking his fast. He was oblivious to what had occurred during the night, and at least Elizabeth was thankful for that blessing. "Papa, I am taking a walk into Meryton this morning. I will take Betsy with me."

"Will you be back for luncheon? I think cook is preparing trifle. I have not had that in a very long time."

Elizabeth sighed with sadness for she knew that cook had taken to making the sweet each and every day for the past two months, for her father had requested it every morning. He had forgotten he had eaten it the day before.

"So, are you going alone?"

"No father, I will be going with Betsy. Do you need anything from the village? Or any letters which need posting?"

"No, my dear, but can you get some writing paper. I seem to be down to my last half a dozen sheets, and your mother wants some more ribbon for her bonnet. Pink or peach if they have it, or even lace if it is not too expensive. You know your mother loves a bit of lace."

"I will not be long." Elizabeth gazed into her father's study and noticed a pile of writing paper, sitting upon his desk. She knew that he had forgotten it was there but decided to buy a small amount of paper so that it would appease him. In relation to the ribbons requested for the woman who had been dead for over twenty years, she would just have to purchase a small amount and would make use of it on one of her gowns.

Elizabeth and her maid had taken to the lane that led into Meryton. They had already passed Netherfield Hall at the junction a half a mile previous with only another mile to go before reaching the borders of the village. On seeing the large imposing building, reminded Elizabeth of the new occupant's behaviour. His concupiscence at the ball did not go unnoticed, and she was almost positive he had digested her appearance with much eagerness. She was not vain, but she knew the cravings he felt for the womanly form were undoubtedly heightened by her presence. Fundamentally, this had made her feel uneasy, and she did not appreciate his ability to disconcert her comportment, even if he had little chance of receiving comforts from her person.

As she deliberated on this notion that Mr Bingley was indeed an inamorato of a corrupt nature, she heard the movement of a carriage approach from behind. She turned to see a very impressive Town Coach heading towards her in quite a slow manner due to the undulations of the lanes surface, so she moved to the edge of the path to allow its passage. As the conveyance levelled, Elizabeth earned herself a glimpse of a very handsome man sitting within, on the forward facing seat. His eyes locked with hers and for an instant, she felt some familiarity with the gentleman. She could not look away, and as the carriage moved past and into the distance, she was left feeling somewhat unnerved.

Betsy saw how afflicted her mistress had become, so took to fussing over her, hoping that she was not coming down with an illness. "Miss, let us get you back home. You seem right out of sorts."

"No, I am fine, Betsy. Let us continue."

"Very well, miss, if you are sure."

They continued, and in little under the half an hour, they reached the small cluster of shops. Elizabeth wished to purchase the latest romance novel along with her father's letter paper, so while Betsy had taken to sitting by the water fountain, Elizabeth ventured into the bookshop.

At the same time, Bingley had arrived into the marketplace on horseback. He spotted one of the shopkeepers' daughters that he had danced with at the assembly and wished to pay his respects to the young lass before he returned to Netherfield Park.

The gentleman's horse had already started to retrace its original path to Netherfield when Elizabeth emerged from the bookshop. As she collected Betsy, she gazed into the distance and spotted Bingley and was thankful that the gentleman had not discovered her. She would never rid herself of him if he had.

As Elizabeth approached the house at Longbourn, she noticed a carriage outside and a considerable amount of activity within. She pondered on the thought that maybe a visitor had come calling, so quickly made her way into the vestibule.

"Miss Lizzy!" Mrs Hill cried out, "Your father!"

Elizabeth knew at that moment that something was terribly wrong. She ran up the stairs two steps at a time and burst into his bedchambers, where she witnessed the vicar quietly praying at the foot of the bed. Elizabeth sat down next to her father's motionless body and took his hand in hers, for it was still warm, he was not dead. However, with the vicar's presence in the room, she knew it would not be long before she would have to say goodbye to the only real family she had ever known.

* * *

A week had passed since that awful day, when Mr Collins was at the door gaining entrance to the house. He did not care that the occupant was mourning the loss of a parent. The entirety of the estate was now legally his property, and he could take possession of what was rightfully his.

Elizabeth was reading in her bedchambers when she heard the commotion below. When she made her way into the vestibule, she saw Mr Hill conversing with a man she had never seen before. "Ah, I take it you are Miss Bennet," Mr Collins asked as he turned to see her.

"Yes, that is correct. And who are you, sir?" she replied to the corpulent, pompous clergyman before her.

"I am Mr Collins. This property belongs to me now," he said sternly, "I suppose I will have to let you stay for a short while, but you will need to find other accommodation before the week is out. I am not a charity."

"But… but I have nowhere else to go!"

"Do you not? I thought you had relatives in town and Scotland. Let one of them take you. Although..." he said, while eyeing her womanly figure, "I am in need of another maid, as the last was foolish enough to beget herself with child. You will fit the position nicely."

Elizabeth's blood curdled at his prurient gaze. He was decidedly worse than Mr Bingley in his study of her person. At least Mr Bingley had not licked his lips in anticipation. Mr Collins, however, had already undressed her in his mind and his expression was playing out his lascivious thoughts. She had heard of gentlemen seducing their maids and servants, only to send them off to a far distant land after they were so stupid enough to find themselves swollen with child.

"I am a gentleman's daughter; I am no servant, sir." Elizabeth's voice trembled with trepidation and instead of making her reply sound austere, it only confirmed her fearfulness. This little quiver encouraged Mr Collins. He enjoyed intimidating young women for his own purpose, but this reawakened her fortitude in the face of adversity and pushed her over the edge. "How dare you come in here so abruptly and proposition me in such a way. I would have expected more from a man of the cloth!"

Mr Collins laughed, "But I will soon no longer be that man, my dear. Your father's passing made certain of that fact. I only took the position of clergyman while biding my time. As for yourself, you are no longer a gentleman's daughter as that situation ended when your father drew his last breath. Now, are you sure you do not wish to stay in my employment? You will find that I am an attentive master," he urged as he took another prurient sweep of her form.

With that last ogle, Elizabeth ran up the stairs and packed her trunks. After collecting several papers from her father's study, she made her way out of the house and with the assistance of Mr Hill, who was almost in tears himself, called upon Lucas Lodge.

"Charlotte, he has come." Exclaimed Elizabeth as she burst into the parlour, where her friend had been sitting.

"Who has come?"

"He has already gained entrance to the house and has moved in only five days after father's passing! How dare he!"

Seeing Elizabeth in such a state, Charlotte insisted that she take a seat beside her. "Calm yourself. Tell me what has happened."

"Mr Collins has taken Longbourn already. He came this morning with all his trunks and furniture. He even had the nerve to ask if I would stay on as a servant." She shuddered at the memory of his gaze upon her flesh. "I could not stay in there a moment longer, for he is a poor example of a gentleman. Such a cantankerous, pompous, lecherous ogre! He could not stop his eyes from wandering across my body."

"Oh, Lizzy. How can such a man take over Longbourn? What will you do now? I am sure you can stay here."

"Thank you for your kindness. I do not know what I would have done over the past few days if you hadn't have been there. You are the best friend one could hope for, but I cannot intrude on your family like this. I have already decided to go to London and take refuge with Aunt and Uncle Gardiner. I will give uncle father's papers, as he will know what to do with them. I must admit that I am scared of my future. I have nothing."

"But what about the Will. Surely that has been read, and you have been provided for?"

"There was nothing in the Will that will alleviate my current dilemma. My dowry, which I am not entitled to as it is in trust. I cannot even claim the income from the saved funds. How am I to live?… No, I am determined to go to London and seek out my relatives. The carriage leaves in an hour, and I must be upon it."

* * *

Elizabeth had no choice other than to go to London to seek out her relations. Mr Gardiner was the only surviving relative of her late mother. On the young lady's arrival to their home, the Gardiners comforted Elizabeth. They had only met her a few times but felt they had no choice other than to take their late sister's only child into their home.

They escorted her into the parlour and rang for tea when Elizabeth started to explain through her tears. "How could such a man browbeat his way into the only home I have ever known. Father isn't even cold in his grave, and he is already changing the drapes in the drawing room. I managed to gather my personal belongings and a few of father's papers he told me he had hidden years ago and left. Can I stay with you until I have resolved myself to my fate? I know father has saved a dowry for me, so once I am out of mourning, I can attend a few balls in London and the knowledge of the money might draw in a suitor." She winced at the words that flowed from her lips but knew that this was the only way forward.

After tea, Elizabeth gave her uncle a small locked box along with a key she had always kept around her neck for safe keeping. She knew it contained a copy of her father's Will, but also other papers not relating to part of the estate.

Mr Gardiner locked the papers away in his study, with the intention of looking at them after Elizabeth had retired for the evening. His primary concern at that moment was to attend to his niece's wellbeing. All other matters would have to wait.

It had gone ten when Elizabeth finally made her way to what would now be her rooms. As she settled down to sleep, her aunt and uncle had moved to the study to look over the paperwork.

"Dear Lord, Maddie. Have you seen this?" asked Mr Gardiner as he handed over Mr Darcy's Will to his wife. "Elizabeth has an arranged marriage with Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy. She obviously does not know about this."

"But Edward? These documents cannot be right. He is extremely wealthy and a member of the le bon ton. Even though he does not own a title himself, his family boasts of several members of the peerage. Why would his father arrange such a marriage for his son to someone so beneath himself?"

"I do not know, but I remember Thomas did mention in one of his few letters that they had stayed in Derbyshire many years ago. One of his correspondence had gone into quite lengthy detail. I think he was shot during those months and convalesced at Pemberley. It must have been arranged then."

"If that is the case, we must tell her," thought Mrs Gardiner.

"No! She is too fragile to discuss such matters at present. The Will stipulated that he has to act by his thirty-fifth birthday. He is only seven and twenty, going by his birth date on the papers, so there are a few years before it becomes urgent. Let Elizabeth mend before we discuss this with her as she needs to heal first."

"Yes. To lose one's father, then her home, she would not do well in knowing she is to be married off to a man she does not know."

"I will lock these away again and talk to her after she has had time to grieve. She will not be able to handle such matters at this moment in time, and I fear she will sink into despair."


	8. Tea at Gracechurch Street

-0-

It had been a little over a month since Elizabeth had arrived on the doorstep of the Gracechurch Street townhouse. Remaining indoors and out of polite society, she spent most of her days either within the confines of the house or walking the small gardens at its rear. Her mood had been melancholy, but over time and with a certain amount of internal turmoil, her heartache began to ease, prompting the return of her spirits, if only in part.

Mr and Mrs Gardiner had begun to care for the young lady as if she was their own. It was one day, during the early summer months that Mr Gardiner espied her from the parlour window as she took her daily stroll through the gardens.

"Maddie, I believe the time has come; we need to approach Elizabeth with regards to her future. She still appears to be somewhat sombre, especially when she thinks she is on her own and her mask has fallen, but I doubt it is all to do with Thomas passing."

"I agree. My thoughts are that she is worried about her future. I overheard her speaking with Jemima, and our little one was asking if she was visiting. Elizabeth replied that she was, but not for long. She seemed subdued for the rest of the morning and had taken to her rooms for an hour or so. I am sure she feels that she does not belong anywhere, but she has a home here."

"Society's customs has made it difficult for women to be independent if they so wish to be. You are rarely your own property. You are either your father's daughter, your guardian's ward or your husband's wife. Those who can live by their own means are few and far between."

"Yes, you men have the privilege of being master and deciding your own destiny. However, a large burden falls on your shoulders."

"How so?"

"You have to protect those of the weaker sex and support a family. As a wife, I can run the household and do my duty to provide you with children, but if you did not provide the bread for our table, where would we be?"

To this, Mr Gardiner chuckled. "Most probably in the hedgerows, head first. I suppose we are both caged animals. Be it, man or woman, we are regimented to the ideals of society, and here we must remain."

"And what of Elizabeth? She feels she is a hindrance, but I have already explained that she has become part of our family and the children adore her. She is more than welcome to stay."

"I know, but it is time to contact Mr Darcy. We need to determine his thoughts on the matter. With a bit of luck, he will be in town as parliament is still in session."

"Yes, you must write to him today; do not delay. Send a note inviting him to come tomorrow morning. We need to discuss the matter with him before approaching Elizabeth, just in case he refuses. We do not wish to build her hopes up."

"I doubt he will refuse. Did you read the clause in his father's Will?"

"That had slipped my mind. Do you think we should tell Elizabeth about that part of the arrangement?"

"No. If Elizabeth feels a burden to us, and we are family, think how she would feel being thrust upon a stranger, who had no choice in the matter. Write and ask him to come to tea at ten o'clock. I will ensure that Elizabeth is out of the house for a few hours. I will ask her to run some errands for me."

"Do you think she will? She has barely stepped foot outside in the whole month."

"We can only but try, and she needs to stop lulling about the house. I know she is still in full mourning, but I doubt a few hours spent shopping for her aunt is going to produce a scandal, and the exercise will do her a world of good. If she does not adhere to my wishes, then we will have to meet with Mr Darcy at his home."

The letter was penned and delivered by one of the servants to Darcy House.

...

 _Gracechurch Street  
_ _London_

 _Dear Mr Darcy,_

 _Please accept my apologies for this correspondence. I know this is not gentlemanly to introduce oneself by letter. However, it is of great importance that I contact you._

 _I am the uncle of Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who is now staying with us after her father's passing, as we are the only family she has left._

 _She came to us last month, most upset with her father's papers, which she handed to me. These documents included a copy of your father's Will._

 _She is not aware of the betrothal, and I wish to discuss your intentions before I divulge the particulars of the arrangement._

 _I think it would be best if we meet without delay to discuss the matter and therefore request that you come to tea tomorrow morning, or if this is not convenient, as soon as possible._

 _Please, could you reply at your earliest convenience; my footman will await your response._

 _Yours truly_

 _Edward Gardiner_

 _..._

* * *

The footman arrived at the servant's entrance and instructed the butler that his own master was anticipating a return reply, so requested to bide his time until he could carry his answer.

"Sir, a letter has just arrived. The man is waiting for a response."

Darcy took the message. His brows furrowed together in curiosity at the unknown hand neatly scribed across the cover. Without delay, he snapped open the unfamiliar seal and proceeded to read. He felt his autonomy being pulled away from underneath him as he regarded the contents. He knew that this day would come, where he would be forced to do his duty, but he hoped that there would have been a few more years before it arrived.

He stared at the letter for what felt like an aeon but knew he had to agree to the interview; this was not going to vanish into thin air. Even though he found it impossible to write the words upon the page, he compelled himself to take responsibility, so there he sat and put ink to paper. He would arrive at Gracechurch Street the following morning.

He was neither angry at Mr Gardiner, nor Miss Bennet. They had been as innocent in this as he was. His father was foremost in his thoughts as he gritted his teeth and seethed his irreverence under his breath. Of course, he did not mean it, not in the real sense as he had loved his father immensely, but this had challenged his fond memories of a parent to whom he had adored.

Sitting back in his chair with a brandy in hand, he pondered on those eyes that he once gazed into many years ago. It was one thing about growing up, that eyes did not alter considerably. They still would have that piercing darkness. A darkness that someone most recently had bestowed upon him, someone he did not know.

His heart skipped a beat at the recollection of _her._ The woman he had seen whilst travelling out of Hertfordshire, but quickly shook his head at the nonsense. "No, this cannot do," he self-chastised. "Why am I thinking of that woman? I only saw her for a moment." But he had to relent his intrigue of such a creature and admit his nightly torments at the same image over the past few weeks. "There must be thousands of women in that neck of the woods. Surely the first lady I see cannot be her."

It did not impress on him at the time, but he had been struck by her beauty. However, thinking back to the little tomboy who had visited him many years ago, he was not to believe they were one and the same. But then, Bingley had declared her to be 'beyond handsome' and that he thought her 'divine.' _Plain ducklings can grow up to be beautiful swans,_ he thought.

He still could only envisage a small child, pretty, but nothing out of the ordinary, and with her tomboyishness- "No, this will not do!" he exclaimed to himself, but his voice almost denied the castigation towards himself as it trembled on his tongue.

He rose from his seat and walked to the window to gaze out over the bustle of life outside, but as he did, more of Bingley's confessions came flooding back. _'_ _Oh, I could see myself settling down here, for Miss Elizabeth Bennet is a delight. Last evening, I had found myself meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes on the face of a pretty woman could bestow. She was positively radiant at the ball._ _'_ Darcy flinched. "Eyes! Eyes! Always those damn eyes!" Bingley was almost frothing at the mouth over the woman who would eventually share his bed. But then, Bingley found all ladies radiant and pretty. They only needed to smile in his direction, and he was rooted in the soup of love.

Then he remembered Miss Bingley's remark. _'_ _That country bumpkin from…'_ She had always belittled anyone who took her brother's fancy, but this woman was not meant for Bingley, she was meant for him. If Bingley played for her, would Mr Bennet refuse his courtship? "No! No! It cannot be for Mr Bennet is dead, and Miss Bennet is now under the care of Mr Gardiner." Darcy turned and looked at the recently delivered missive with a sigh. He would know all too well tomorrow.

* * *

The Gardiner's household was busying themselves to make the place presentable. Mrs Gardiner had kept a neat and tidy house, but she worried over the fact that a gentleman of the higher circles was calling upon them. Flowers were arranged in various vases around the parlour, cushions were plumped, rugs were beaten, and the best silver tea service was polished to a mirror finish.

Ten o'clock arrived and Darcy descended from his carriage and took the steps of the Gracechurch Street home. The butler showed him into the parlour, where he was announced to Mr and Mrs Gardiner.

After initial introductions were made, Mr Gardiner came straight to the point. "So Mr Darcy, it has come to our attention recently that your father's Will contained a clause within it regarding our niece's future. This fact has only recently come to light as Miss Bennet's own father has not long passed away. Elizabeth is not aware of this agreement, as we believe her father kept it from her. She has come to us with the papers bestowed to her, and she had given them directly to me to look at."

At this, Darcy became nervous and looked around the room. Mrs Gardiner perceived that he was looking for Elizabeth. "Do not worry, Mr Darcy, she is not here at present. I have sent her on an errand as we needed to know your thoughts on the matter before breaking the news to her. It is only fair."

Darcy relaxed somewhat, trying to find the correct words to tell his thoughts, without making the situation dire. With a degree of calmness, he responded, "I have known of the betrothal for the past five years but decline to do anything about it. I had time ahead of me to decide what I was going to do. I was not in a position at three and twenty, being my age when my father died, to make such a decision in life. I was headstrong and had a lot of growing up to do and a large estate to manage.

"In the past five years, I have worked hard to increase my wealth. Investing in several properties, which are leased out and partaking in other business adventures as I was unsure what my future would hold. It has only been since I received your note that I have taken a long hard look at myself and feel extreme guilt at what my attitude towards the whole situation has been. I saw it a predicament, something that I had been forced into kicking and screaming. I lay awake all of last night going over this again and again. I am an honourable man, who has been brought up to do his duty, to his family, his tenants, staff and friends. Elizabeth was a friend, a dear friend, who had helped me through a most terrible part of my life. I had lost my mother, and she had somehow dragged me out of some of the darkest months of my life. I owe her a great deal for if she had not been there to help my recovery, I do not know what would have happened to me. I could have spiralled out of control, got into trouble, denied my father his instruction and ignored my commission in life. But I was put back on the right path. Elizabeth did this, and it is only right that I should oblige in making her part of my life once more."

"Do you feel pushed into this?"

"To a degree, yes, but I no longer feel its pressure. My investments are outside of what father left me, so they do not form part of the disinheritance if I was to refuse. I have tripled the funds that my late maternal grandmother had left me, which is enough to live comfortably, to some degree.

"I will not lie. I was not happy with the clause in the Will, and my father has shown in this that he did not trust me. He should have come to me and discussed the matter directly so that I could have been more prepared, but of course, he chose not to enlighten me. This only made me angry at my forebearer, but he must have seen something there to suggest it. He could see what I could not."

"I can understand your predicament. No one wishes to be forced into anything. Not everyone has the luxury of marrying for love, and even then it could only take a matter of months before you grew out of such an emotion. Your father saw something in the two of you together, all those years ago, to make him believe you would suit. Marriage is a gamble in any situation. So, do you wish to meet Miss Bennet?"

"Yes. My mind is now settled."

"Then, would you care to come to dinner tomorrow night? You can meet our niece then… but, there is one thing I wish to ask before we do. Do you feel the clause needs to be revealed?"

"I do not know. I would prefer if it were as I do not like deceit. What is your view?"

"I believe that Elizabeth will be most upset to know you were forced to take her. Knowing her character and how she sees her situation at present, it could go either way. She could stamp her feet and deny ever seeing you again, or she could submit to the request, but live her life knowing she was forced upon you, that is something she could not live with. I would suggest that although the marriage was arranged, that you do this willingly and happily."

"Very well, if you insist. She will not be told." Darcy felt uneasy about this, but Mr Gardiner knew his niece better than he did. Who knew about the provision? Only his cousin, aunt, uncle, and Wickham knew. It was doubtful his sister would recollect the details and Bingley was in the dark. He could always confess at a later date if needs be.


	9. Reacquaintance

-0-

After Elizabeth had risen the following morning, her uncle called her into his study. "Sit down, my dear; there is something I need to discuss with you of great importance."

"What is it, Uncle Edward?" She was concerned at the grave expression on her guardian's face.

"Do not be alarmed. I need to discuss with you what was found amongst your father's papers. I had discovered it a month ago but felt you were not in a position to receive such information. I am not sure you are aware of all of the contents, which could be life-changing for you."

Mr Gardiner paused looking at his niece for a reaction other than her initial disquietude. Her concern turned to confusion, as she was not aware of any additional papers beyond her father's Will and a few keepsake letters, which her parents had written to each other during their courting days. "There is little value to what was in that box. We all know that Mr Collins inherited everything. There is nothing left, other than my dowry, which is of little interest to me at this moment."

"On the contrary," responded Mr Gardiner. "There is a great deal to observe. Were you aware it also contained a copy of the late Mr Darcy's Will?" Elizabeth shook her head. "You and your father stayed with him for some time while you were a youngster. Do you remember staying in Derbyshire for an entire summer when you were a child?"

Elizabeth sat for a moment to ponder. "I remember, but not very clearly. There were a couple of boys. One called George, who was confined to bed for most of the time due to an accident. The other boy was called Fitzwilliam, whom I believe was the master's son. We rambled over the woodlands and climbed trees together." Then Elizabeth laughed. "I seem to remember Fitzwilliam and I used to bicker and fight quite a lot, but it was never with malice or ill-meant; we did have a good friendship. I wrote to him when I returned to Longbourn, but it was short-lived as the letters stopped coming and I gave up. What of it, Uncle?"

With a deep breath, Mr Gardiner proceeded to explain. "At the time, your father agreed with the old Mr Darcy. An arrangement that at some point you would marry his son. He did stipulate though that you had the final decision and would not force you into anything you did not want to do."

"Elizabeth's reaction was to laugh. "An arranged marriage? That is absurd. Why would a gentleman of a great estate wish for his son to marry me? Yes, I may be a genteel woman, but we were not in the same sphere as the likes of the Darcys. Their estate was incredibly large, and I would imagine that the family is very wealthy. No, it must be a mistake."

"It is no mistake, I can assure you. That year, your father saved Mr Darcy's life and probably that of his son. The gentleman felt indebted to your father. During his convalescence, your papa had disclosed the entailment of the estate, which concerned Mr Darcy. He noticed how his son was with you and thought it would make a good match. Your father has spent a small fortune on making you ready for that role as mistress of a large estate. It is all here in his diaries, which were in the box you gave me. Had you not wondered why you had all the education anyone could throw at a young lady?"

Elizabeth was saddened, remembering the times where her father found it difficult to make ends meet financially but had enough to pay for tutors and a governess. "I do not know what to say. So father, all these years, knew that I was to marry someone of high standing and he did not tell me."

"He did not wish for you to be overly anxious about it. Allowing you to live your life and he had hoped that you would choose a husband for yourself and marry for love. The provision was only a last resort. But Elizabeth, you need to think seriously about this decision and bear in mind your present circumstances. If you say no, there will be no going back if things do not turn out good for you. You have a home here, we will not throw you onto the streets, but you need to realise that we will not be here forever and our children would have moved on with a family of their own."

Elizabeth bit her lip with nerves. She remembered the boy but had no clue of the man he had become. "Has Mr Darcy been informed of this? Does he know?"

Mr Gardiner smiled with his reply, "Yes my dear, he is aware. Your aunt and I had him to tea yesterday morning, while you were out. He seems a nice enough chap and is willing to honour his father's wish. He is a very handsome man, Elizabeth. Your aunt most certainly took a liking to him, and I do believe she even swooned a little when he was introduced."

Mr Gardiner was reluctant to divulge the clause in the Will, knowing that Elizabeth would feel that Darcy was being forced into the marriage and may make a hasty decision, which she would later regret. When Elizabeth inquired when they would meet, her uncle confirmed that Darcy had been invited to dine that evening.

* * *

Eight o'clock arrived, and Darcy entered the Gardiners' home and was shown immediately to the door of the parlour, where Elizabeth was patiently waiting. Mr Gardiner advised the guest that she was in the room and that he should enter alone.

The Gardiners wished for their initial meeting to be alone and unhindered. Hoping that some true acceptance would emerge without the gaze of others around them, anticipating their approval. Darcy did not know what to make of this arrangement, for it was certainly not within propriety to be allowed a private audience on first acquaintance. He did, however, enter the room, but before he stepped foot over the threshold, he took a deep breath and allowed his courage to rise. As his eyes wandered the room, they fell upon Elizabeth's form, as she stood by the window. His heart skipped a beat when he observed her standing there. Her back was to him, so was unaware he had already arrived. She looked wistful and deep in thought as the warm summer sunlight flooded in through the small panes of glass and shone across her form. Elizabeth heard the door click shut and turned, his breath caught in his throat. He could not move. He could not speak. He could not breathe. He just watched as she gazed back at him with those eyes, _those damn eyes_ that had tortured him every night since he left Hertfordshire. It was _her_.

"You!" she said in a startled tone.

"Yes, me," was all that Darcy could manage.

"You are the man in the carriage. I saw you last month."

"Yes, it appears you did. And I you." He gulped as he took a step into the room.

Elizabeth felt uneasy and shyly looked away as a mild blush spread across her cheeks. This handsome man she had seen in the carriage was standing before her; he was to be her husband. She flushed even more when realising, at that moment, that they would be sharing more than a home. She would be sharing his bed.

Elizabeth's aunt had given her the talk that afternoon. Even though it was generally reserved for just before the wedding, Mrs Gardiner thought it best to bestow upon her niece a certain amount of information that would assist her in her decision. It would not do to accept a man who was a complete stranger without knowing what would be expected of her. Now, all Elizabeth felt was a rather odd sensation in the pit of her stomach and her heart beating so much that she was worried it would thrust itself right out of her chest.

Darcy noticed her demeanour and inwardly smiled. _She cannot bring herself to even look at me,_ he thought. Then he realised he was staring at her in a somewhat dumbfounded manner, and any woman would blush at such intense scrutiny. "Oh, I am sorry. I did not properly greet you… Good Evening, Miss Bennet. It is a pleasure to meet you again, after all these years." He took a deep bow in a somewhat theatrical manner, hoping to break the ice with a nonsensical manoeuvre.

She hesitantly peered up with a sideways glance through her lashes, allowing them eye contact once more, which neither could break. Darcy was transfixed on those chocolate brown orbs that seemed to burn into his beating heart. "Mr Darcy. It is an honour to meet you." She curtsied in a less obvious manner.

"I believe the honour is all mine, Elizabeth… May I call you as such?"

"I feel that under the circumstances, it would be acceptable, but only when we are not in company." She blushed further if that were possible.

"If that be the case, then I insist on you calling me Fitzwilliam _or Fitzy_." He smiled with a cocked brow in remembrance of her preferred name for him back in '96.

Darcy finally regained some amount of composure, just as he noticed her clothing. Her attire was black. "I do beg your pardon. May I relay my deepest condolences for the loss of your father."

"Thank you," she replied. The sentiment was meant kindly, but it reminded Elizabeth of her loss. She had not been exposed to sympathisers, and it felt odd to have someone give her compassion. Tears threatened to spill, so she bit back her melancholy in order to regulate her emotions. She would not allow her fortitude to waver at that instance, but he had been the first person outside of the household to give her some amount of solace. Darcy noticed her countenance turn decidedly wistful and knew he had to give her comfort. His words were heartfelt as he watched her weaken. "It will get easier, Elizabeth. Believe me when I say that your pain will gradually fade and sweet memories will take their place. I know exactly what you are going through." Darcy tried to reassure her as best he could. He needed to help with her healing as she had done with him when his mother had passed.

"Thank you, Fitzwilliam. It is still rather raw, and even though I am recovering from my loss, sometimes it just takes me by surprise."

"I have lost both my parents and can comprehend exactly how you feel. It took me over six months to get over my mother's death, but a little brown eyed girl with a bountiful of ringlets made me see that life was for living and not for wishing it away." Elizabeth looked up with a trace of a smile. "Yes, you helped me, Elizabeth. You may not have known it at the time, but you remedied my anguish. I hope you will allow me to remedy yours." She nodded shyly. His tone was soft, tender and heartfelt. "I am sure we will be happy. You will have a comfortable home at Pemberley, and I will do my utmost to be a caring and loyal husband. You will want for nothing."

"I do not know what I want," she whimpered. "My life has been turned upside down and back to front in recent weeks, and I feel in turmoil."

"You will eventually settle. It will take time, and time is on our side."

"I suppose we have the rest of our lives to get me out of this… fix. Please be patient with me. Fitzwilliam, I want to be a good wife, but…"

"But nothing. There is no rush. Once we are in the tranquillity of the country, I hope that our lives will settle down and you will find some amount of concord. You may even wish to venture into the wilderness and come back with muddy boots and your hair windswept and tangled if you desire."

Elizabeth looked up at him once more and saw the smirk on his face. He was teasing her. She then remembered he was a great tease, but not as accomplished as herself. "And my hair full of tadpoles," she smiled.

"You know I would have never done that to you. It was an idle threat." He returned her smile with some degree of audacity. "Give me your hand."

Elizabeth was puzzled but held out her gloved hand. Darcy proceeded to unbutton the fastening at the inside of her wrist and pull the garment off. Her breath hitched as their skin finally made contact. Such a tingle had passed through her fingers and into her body, something she had not felt before. He turned her hand over and looked genuinely at her palm as though he was trying to find something. "I see it did not leave a scar."

"The blood bond? No," Elizabeth sighed softly as Darcy innocently run his finger along the lines of her palm. She was further discombobulated when he took it up to his lips and kissed the cushioned pad below her thumb. "Thenar Eminence," she whispered. He moved to the opposite side of her palm and placed a caress there. "Hypothenar Eminence." Then her wrist. Her eyes fluttered closed at the moment Darcy's gaze returned to hers.

"You know your anatomy," he stated.

"Yes." _Now I can understand why aunt swooned,_ she thought between the fogginess in her brain. Her eyes fluttered back up to his; their lips but only a few inches apart as both were caught up at the moment. He, however, realised what improprieties would come about if he were to follow through with what he desired and pulled away with a clearing of his throat.

"So…" Elizabeth started to ask in the hopes to bring back some amount of decency to their meeting. "These grounds at Pemberley. Are they as grand as I recollect?"

"I believe so, although it probably looks different to your adult eyes than they did to that as a child."

"I like walking, for miles at a time."

"There are plenty of paths you may wish to trudge through, and the countryside in that part of the world will give you some degree of counsel. I do my best ponderings when I am out in the middle of nowhere on my own."

"On occasion, I would trudge around the country and lose track of time. Father used to chastise me when I came home with my petticoats six inches deep in mud, telling me that it was not ladylike for someone such as I to get completely dishevelled as I had. I always got away with my misdemeanour by stating that it was a healthy pastime to take brisk walks. It satisfied him, that is until the next time."

"Well, as the mistress, your petticoats have permission to be as caked in as much mud as they wish to be." He took her small hand in his once more but heard Elizabeth gasp as they made contact again. He only wanted to touch her and maybe kiss her delicate fingers one at a time. The feelings that the connection provoked felt wonderful and his mind quickly wandered to what it would be like to lay atop of her as they made love. Her warm, soft form underneath his taught muscular conformation and his manhood drenched in her wetness. _Darcy, do not think of her in that way, you fool. You will not last the engagement if you carry on in this concupiscent manner._ He chastised himself over and over again, but he could sense that Elizabeth also felt something. Whether it was lust or a sense of concern at his own behaviour, he did not know, but their touch had moved her in some way. He watched as a smile started to form on her face as she viewed the contrast in size of each hand. "What humours you?"

"Your hands are so big."

"They are, but I do believe that smaller hands would look rather strange on my six foot three frame." _And these hands will wrap you in my arms and hold you close to me as we make love. How stupid I have been to wait. Foolish, Foolish man!_

" _I do believe that I may have to find myself a stool,"_ she stated playfully.

"A stool? What do you mean?" Darcy frowned. He did not anticipate her to mention the awkwardness of their heights when kissing, as he had not expected the lady before him to suggest such a thing.

" _Oh, just that we cannot allow such a distance to come between us now, could we."_ Expressing amusement as she replied and her eyes sparkled for it. Darcy then discovered her meaning. Bringing her hand up to his lips, he kissed the back tenderly before turning it over and kissing her palm, then the inside of her wrist.

Elizabeth swooned.

She could see that he was handsome. Maybe one of the most elegant, attractive men of her acquaintance. But then, she had only a select few of Hertfordshire's menfolk to compare him to, and most of those were twice her age or still in short trousers. His dark, smouldering eyes and curly black hair were very fetching. Even his whiskers, which tapered off into a point midway to the corners of his mouth, could not be faulted, for she longed to bring her fingers up and delve into their undergrowth. _Yes, he is a very handsome man,_ she quietly surmised.

There was a soft knock at the door, and both Elizabeth and Darcy pulled away from each other, with their hands relinquishing their hold. Mr Gardiner ventured in and announced that dinner was ready. Darcy held out his arm for Elizabeth, and she took it graciously before escorting her into the small, but elegant, dining room.


	10. Darcy, the Seducer

-0-

The table was laid with four place settings. Darcy immediately noticed the china was quite delicate and the glassware was of the same calibre as his own. The surroundings and its contents were not typical of what a merchant would possess, and this made the man curious for more information as to Mr Gardiner's wealth, so enquired. "Since the turn of the century, I have invested most of my accumulated wealth in British trade," Mr Gardiner stated. "The West Indies was all well and good at the time, but I found forced labour more and more detestable as time went by. Before the end of the last century, I pulled all of my funds from that particular venture and started to invest in local commerce." To that, Mr Gardiner pointed to the plate in front of him. "The bone china on the table is from my porcelain factory in East London, which is located not far from the cattle markets in Bow." At this Darcy noticed Elizabeth from the corner of his eye, but had to fight back his mirth on seeing her expression turn to sheer horror. "Elizabeth, if I do not invest, then someone else will, and it is not as if the animals are still alive, unlike my previous dealings."

"But it is so abhorrent. It is all fascinating, but can we at least not talk about this while we are eating from such items? It will put me off of my food."

"Yes, my dear. I take your point," Mr Gardiner said whilst patting her hand. Darcy looked at their physical connection and wished it was his hand that was caressing hers, or even better his lips. _"_ _So, Mr Darcy, I have dealings in a venture that I am not permitted to discuss at this present moment, but I also have my fingers in tea,"_ Mr Gardiner stated with a chuckle.

" _Is the tea in a teapot made of bone china, by any chance?"_ Darcy asked. His eyes cast back to Elizabeth who was now pouting with furrowed brows; this reminded him of a particular incident when they were children. "I am sorry, Miss Bennet, but I could not resist," he laughed. "I think we should change the subject, Mr Gardiner."

"Indeed, or we will have a distraught young lady on our hands, and I do not think I could bear the rest of the evening in uncomfortable silence."

"For that little tease, I believe Mr Darcy should tell us about what he has been up to this past… fourteen years."

"Of course. Eton, Cambridge, then I travelled the continent, and on my return father passed away."

"Oh, I am sorry."

"No, it is all good. It was so long ago, and I am able to talk about it with ease. At the time I was in a haze for nearly a year. The task of becoming a new master is not an easy one, and I had not even had insight into what my father did as I was absent from Pemberley for long periods of time since the age of fifteen. School holidays were fleeting, and in those times father left most of his business to the steward while we spent our days together, enjoying life.

"For the past five years, I have invested highly into property. My maternal grandmother left me twenty thousand pounds in her Will when I was seventeen, but I was not allowed access to it until my majority. I started to buy up properties after my father died and it has grown substantially over the past five years, as I have reinvested the income that the leases have produced back into the business."

"So what are you worth?" Elizabeth asked.

"Elizabeth! You cannot go asking such questions!" Mrs Gardiner chastised.

"Why ever not? It is a fairly innocent question and not as if I am one of these matchmaking women only after Mr Darcy's money. I would do just as happy being a shop keeper's wife."

"Aye, and a bookseller at that, I would imagine," Mrs Gardiner chuckled.

"You like reading?" Elizabeth nodded. "You will enjoy my library at Darcy House or the more impressive one at Pemberley. It boasts of over three hundred years of accumulated tomes."

"Three hundred years! Are the early books still strong enough to be handled?"

"Maybe not those, but my grandfather started to replace some of the earlier ones, and both my father and I continued that duty. We still keep the old copies, but they are more for show than reading. I will enjoy showing you, at the very least, my collection at Darcy House." His eyes were saddened at the thought of the possibility that Elizabeth may yet refuse him and never see Pemberley. He knew that before he would take his leave, he would ask her if she was in favour of the union.

* * *

After dinner, the sexes parted but only for only a short while, then the men returned to the ladies in the music room. "So, will you play for us, niece?" Mrs Gardiner asked, "And maybe Mr Darcy can turn the pages," she added. As Mr Darcy took the seat next to Elizabeth on the shared piano stool, Mr Gardiner remembered he had forgotten his pipe in the dining room. Within two minutes, Mrs Gardiner had taken her leave to find her husband. The door was closed behind her.

"How obvious. I do believe my relations wish for us to be alone and unchaperoned again. What do you make of such impropriety?"

"I think it is rather an ingenious idea." Elizabeth felt his warm breath against her ear. Her countenance faltered as she was overwhelmed at the intoxicating spell that he was casting over her with his close proximity. _I will not swoon, I will not swoon,_ she chanted to herself. She placed her ungloved hands upon the keys in order to start the piece, but Darcy's hand stopped her as he trailed the tips of his fingers up the length of her arm until he reached the edge of her short sleeve. "Elizabeth," he breathed; his voice almost pleading. Her head lolled against his, which gave him the opportunity to brush his lips against her cheeks. So tender was his touch. He noted a small whimper as his lips traced up to her ear. "Please say you are in agreement," he asked with a slight tremble in his own voice.

"To what?" she managed to ask between gasps of breath. Her heart was beating heavily once more, as it had done earlier in the parlour and she had to control her own breaths in fear she would faint.

"To our fathers' arrangement." She felt his whiskers against her neck as he kissed the bare skin upon her shoulder.

"I think so. But…"

"But what?" Now he was nipping at her ear, and all she could do was place a hand upon his shoulder to steady herself and not crumble. Darcy could sense her body weaken and placed his palm on the small of her back. This small movement begat a rather delicious reaction; Elizabeth arched her back as her head lolled and so exposing more of her flesh upon her throat. "Elizabeth, please."

"I am rather nervous."

"Right now?" Darcy continued to caress her throat and down to her collarbone. Although he wished for her lips, he knew that if he consumed her mouth, there was a significant danger he would not be able to stop himself, and it would not be gentlemanly to have her there in the music room, while her aunt and uncle were in the house.

"No. Marriage, the… the bed."

"Bed," he groaned at the thought of picking her up and carrying her up the stairs. Her reaction to him at that moment did not warrant a nervous maiden on her wedding night. "I will not push you in that aspect, we have all the time in the world to conquer our fears, but Elizabeth, I doubt you will be so concerned when the time comes."

"How so?"

"Your reaction to my closeness now is rather… alluring, enticing. I cannot imagine you being anything but passionate… Please say you are in agreement with our fathers' wishes."

"Yes, oh yes," she sighed as his hand came up to cup her face and bring her closer until each forehead touched the other. Neither pair of eyes were open, and they basked in the intimacy they had been allowed until they heard footsteps outside. As their surroundings emerged from their indulgent, hedonic state, they forced themselves apart and quickly regained composure before returning to the music.

* * *

When Darcy left that evening, he journeyed to Matlock House where his cousin, Richard, had just finished having dinner with his father. His mother had already retired for the evening, claiming fatigue.

Darcy requested to speak to Richard in private. The earl, knowing he was not to be privy to whatever his nephew had on his mind, grabbed a large tumbler full to the brim before leaving them in the dining room.

"So Darcy, what has you in such a tizzy? As soon as you stepped into the room, I knew that there was something up."

"Do you remember the terms of my father's Will? Regarding the betrothal to a Miss Elizabeth Bennet?" Darcy asked with an attempt to hold back his joy.

Richard smirked, "Who could forget? Your reaction was priceless."

"Well… I made her acquaintance today," Darcy said looking down into his brandy glass that Richard had just handed him. Richard stood there, watching his cousin swirl the amber liquor around in the tumbler, waiting for him to continue.

"Well, Man! Out with it! Are you going to enlighten me further, or did you just come here to tell me that?"

"She is remarkably pretty, magnificent in fact. The sweetest creature I have ever met," Darcy said with a hint of a smile.

"Well, well, well. That is a turn up for the books, old chap. _You were lucky she did not have a face like a cow's arse or was it a Badger's arse?"_ Richard teased.

"Richard! That is no way to talk about a lady. Especially if she did have a face as such, it's not gentlemanly," Darcy infused.

"But she has not. So what happens now? Will you be seeing her while you are in London? I know you have to return to Pemberley soon."

Darcy looked up and grinned, "I hope we will be married before I leave and if it takes longer than expected, I will just remain until I can return with my bride."

With that, Richard stood and roared his congratulations to his cousin. With all the commotion going on, the earl returned to the room. "What is going on?"

"Father, Darcy here is getting hitched, to that girl from Hertfordshire."

"Well, well, well, nephew. I'm glad you came to your senses. I hope she's a pretty spirited little thing," he said with a nudge on the shoulder.

"God! It's like father like son," Darcy stated, "Yes she is very beautiful, uncle." _And also alluring, passionate and she smells so sweet,_ he thought.

For the rest of the evening, the three gentlemen partook in finishing off two bottles of brandy. The butler managed to get Darcy into his carriage to take him home, as he was worse for the drink. Arriving back at his townhouse, Darcy made his way to his rooms without the grace of a gentleman. He staggered up the stairs, full of liquor, only to nearly collapse on the top step.

"Sir?" Roger enquired, as he made his way into the corridor. "Is everything well with you?"

"Aye! I'ma getting mwarried."

The valet comprehended the master was inebriated, so thought nothing of his drunken announcement. "Congratulations, sir. Do you wish to retire?"

"Aye!" he replied once more as he stumbled into his room.

Sleep came easily to the drunken master. As soon as he drifted off, his mind began to wonder what married life would now mean to him. He would be able to ease his urges as he lay with his wife. Her warm, soft body against his hardened muscular frame had him mentally acting out such delights.

"Ah, god damn it!" he cried out in frustration. He had woken up at such a crucial moment. Looking down, Darcy could not miss his arousal, for his prick had pitched the sheet. He knew that he would not get back to sleep with his present predicament, so pulled back the covers, spat liberally into his palm, and closed his eyes. _Good lord! I have not done this in so long._

The bliss that now filled his body sent him back into a deep sleep, but it was only a matter of an hour before he found himself awake again, in much of the same state. _Again_ _‽_

* * *

The following morning, Darcy woke up feeling dreadful. He was not used to drinking copious amounts of spirits, but when in the company of the earl and his cousin, it was difficult to say no. He then thought about his behaviour towards Elizabeth. He had not acted with gentlemanlike behaviour, but she had provoked an almost drunken state when he was in her company. Was this how his life would be? Some fool drunk on the allurements of a woman, his wife?

Staggering out of bed, he noticed the state of the once pristine blue sheets, which were now stained with his spendings. That was another embarrassment he could have done without. _Oh! Dear! God! The chambermaids will see the mess and know precisely what I have done,_ he cursed. In a panic he procured the pitcher of water from the side table and splashed a liberal amount over the stains, rubbing the liquid around so that the marks diminished to some degree. He would then tell the valet that he accidentally spilt the water during the night.

Having sorted out his dilemma, he hastily called for Roger. The quicker he saw to his ablutions and dressed, the sooner he would be with _her_. His eagerness did not go amiss on the servant, who had also noticed the state of the bedding. The water did not disguise the evidence that the master had had a rather disturbing, yet pleasant night.


	11. A Stroll through the Park

-0-

As he had awoken quite early, Darcy took the opportunity to write a letter to his sister before he would make his way to Gracechurch Street. He wished he could tell Georgiana of his news in person, but as she was still at Pemberley, he was forced to inform her by letter, requesting that she immediately journey to London.

 _Darcy House_  
 _London_

 _Dear Georgiana_

 _I hope this missive finds you well._

 _You will not believe what I am about to portray, but understand it to be the truth._

 _I am to be married, dear sister, to a Miss Elizabeth Bennet, whom I met many years ago. We have been reacquainted recently after the death of her father, and she has agreed to be my wife._

 _Believe me when I say that Elizabeth and I will be blissfully happy together. You know me all too well to know that I shy away from anyone beyond my own party and am ill qualified to recommend myself to strangers, even if I am a man of sense and education. I lack the talent, which some people possess in conversing easily with others, but she has dispersed that theory and I am now left to abandon my usual taciturn manner, in favour of a more loquacious nature when I am in her company._

 _You will love her, Georgie, for not only is she beautiful, but kind and generous natured._

 _Please also divulge the news to Wickham, as I wish for both of you to travel to London with Messrs Peters and Annesley. I would be privileged if he would agree to stand beside me in church._

 _I would, therefore, request that you leave for London post haste._

 _I look forward to seeing you in a few days._

 _Yours lovingly_

 _Fitzwilliam_

Darcy put his pen down and sat back in his chair. A grin spread across his face as he pondered on how Georgiana would react, for she had longed for a sister for many years.

He knew though that the introduction would be with some unease for Elizabeth when Wickham's impairment was made known. There was no getting around the issue, for she would see how the man was left after the accident as soon as she entered the room. Therefore, he was determined to inform her before the party arrived.

* * *

It was a little after nine when he called upon the household at Gracechurch Street. With great delight, he found Elizabeth was breaking her fast alone in the dining room. Mr Gardiner had already left for the factory, and Mrs Gardiner was helping the nanny with the children.

Mr Darcy was allowed to join his betrothed, while she continued to partake of her meal. However, he noticed a footman immediately appear behind him and stood patiently in the corner; his head bowed to the floor. "I take it your aunt and uncle have instructed the servants to be vigilant when I am around," he whispered.

"I am sure she has. I believe last night's abandonment of my relations was a singular act and will not be repeated, so expect chaperones from now on," she said but chuckled when she looked up at the footman, for he had taken to pushing clumps of cotton into his ears. "I think aunt has told them, at the very least, to allow us some privacy in our conversation."

"Why do you say that?" Darcy asked confused but started laughing when he turned to the footman and saw what she meant. As his boom was quite loud, the footman glanced up and winked at the couple. Such informalities Darcy would not tolerate in his own household, but this was not his home, and the family seemed to treat their servants with a little more familiarity.

"So, how are you this morning? I must say you look remarkably well," said Elizabeth, as she licked a misplaced dollop of butter from her top lip. Darcy watched eagerly, consuming the act as he held his breath in exquisite torture as he imagined suckling the same said morsel from her mouth.

"Fitzwilliam?" she bid, innocent of what had occurred.

"Yes?… Sorry, I had a good night's sleep. Although, I woke up a few times as I was rather affected by my dreams of you," he whispered into her delicate ear.

"Were your dreams improper?" teased Elizabeth.

"Very… and you were," he smiled gleefully.

"I must admit, I woke several times myself in a rather diaphoresis glow," she said as she turned towards him and looked him straight in the eyes with an arched brow. She hoped that this would unbalance his demeanour.

"Are you playing with me?"

"Maybe," she giggled.

"Elizabeth," Darcy's expression grew serious, and he looked away as he spoke his regrets. "I must apologise for my behaviour yesterday evening, especially my attention to you in the music room. It was totally out of character that I took advantage of you in such a way. I was just caught up in the moment. I have never behaved so caddish to a genteel lady before, and I cannot think of how I acted without abhorrence." He finally looked at her with such an expression of remorse; Elizabeth felt the urge to cup his face and place a mending kiss upon his lips in the hope to overcome his anguish, but she resisted for both their sakes.

"I think I was as much at fault as you. I have never been affected in such a way, and I did not stop you. I should have told you to still your indelicate prowess before it took hold, but I did not." Her lips twitched upwards letting it be known that she was not offended and took part of the blame, but Darcy would not have it.

"There is no fault on your part. I should have known better than to entice you into such a situation. I know the ways of the world, unlike yourself. You are an innocent, and I should not have taken advantage of that fact."

"Oh, I know what happens." A delicious smirk formed on her face, which Darcy noticed; he was somewhat surprised at her admittance.

"Do you?"

"Aunt told me yesterday afternoon. She felt it was to my advantage to know at least some of what happens between married couples so that I could judge for myself."

"Some, but not all?"

"No. Aunt would not go into depth, so I do not know all, only that of the basic act." At this, Elizabeth blushed. "Please, can we change the subject, it is all rather embarrassing."

"Of course. How about bone china?" he grinned.

"At the table, yet again! Mr Darcy, you do take delight in vexing me to the full. You have no compassion for my nerves." She pressed her lips together in an attempt not to show her amusement, but he knew she was playing with him once more.

"You mistake me, my dear. I will not allow my behaviour to make you fretful. I only wish to see you smile, and I know there is a smile in there somewhere." At this, Elizabeth beamed. "What would you like to do today? We can take a walk in the park if your aunt is in agreement."

"That should not be a problem, but I do not wish to be out for too long. Did you eat this morning?"

"No, I did not have time, as I had a correspondence to send by express before I left home."

"Oh! To your sister."

"Yes, I begged her to travel to London, so that you can meet before the wedding."

"Mrs Darcy," she pondered aloud. "How well that sounds."

"Mrs Elizabeth Darcy, my wife, my lover, my one and only," he gloried in the ratification from his lips whilst brushing a stray lock from her cheek.

"I do not think you should be touching me in such a way? It is charming, but after what you have just said, and…" she stated whilst her eyes cast towards the footman.

"No, I should not. You are correct, and I should at least try and behave myself."

" _Well, you can try until we are wed, then who knows what will happen once we are both unleashed from propriety's shackles,"_ she winked, and he was undone once more.

Darcy let out a deep breath, before moving his place from her side to opposite. "What are you doing?"

"Removing myself, so that I am not so close to you."

"That is a good enough reason. As you have not eaten, will you have something here, now?"

"If there is enough. I do not wish for the rest of the family to come down and find there is nothing left. I have quite a healthy appetite."

"In more ways than one."

"Elizabeth, please," he sighed as he closed his eyes.

"I am sorry, Fitzwilliam. I am mean to be challenging your own governance in such a way. I will try not to tempt you any further with my womanly ways."

"Food!" he exclaimed in an attempt to curb her teasing. He could see that although she was genuine in her concession, she was taking full advantage of the situation.

"Food? Oh! Yes. One thing about Aunt Gardiner, she does not underestimate her breakfast preparations. At least have a cup of coffee and a muffin. Or there are eggs, ham, toast and preserves if you prefer something hot?"

"Maybe just a cup of coffee… and a muffin as they look rather delicious."

Elizabeth handed him the vittles and filled his cup. "They are, and they are still warm from the skillet. I think I will have another one. I have already had two with melted butter."

"I take it you are making up for your lack of appetite over the past month." He had already noticed she did not fill out her gowns as one should.

"Yes, but aunt has made me eat at least a full meal in the evenings. They have been my salvation these past few weeks. I do not know what I would have done without them."

"But they are your family? Surely they would not have allowed you to fend for yourself."

"I did not know what to expect before I came to London. But they have been nothing but all kindness. Uncle is my late mother's brother. I had only seen him a handful of times as father did not wish to keep in touch. He found it difficult to…" Here, Elizabeth trailed off. "I miss him."

"I know you do, but it will get easier. You will never forget him, and there will always be these melancholy moments when you least expect it. Something usually triggers them, words, smells or even music can bring back memories, but you will eventually learn to appreciate those moments rather than see them with sadness."

"I have noticed I am less likely to burst into tears now. However, any thoughts are still hard to cope with."

He had to ask the question that he had been ruminating upon; he did not wish to leave it any longer. "I know that you are still in mourning and it has only been a short while, but do you suppose we can marry soon? I know it is normal for at least half a year to pass, but do you think we could hasten the day?"

"I do not wish to wait that long either. Apparently, my father put a note in with his papers. His wishes were that we marry as soon as I am ready. He probably knew that we would seek out each other quite soon after his passing."

"So, what are your thoughts?"

"Maybe six weeks from now, at the very least? Then I will have been in mourning for nearly three months and can go into half-mourning, which will not be so obvious. I know father's note said he did not mind, but I would think any sooner would cause a scandal, and as you know I will not be able to wear black as a new bride."

* * *

After they finished eating, they took a leisurely stroll towards Hyde Park. As they entered the grounds, Darcy noticed the scrutiny of those around them. "We seem to be causing quite a stir. Have you notice all eyes are upon us."

"They are upon you, Fitzwilliam. I doubt anyone is interested in me," said Elizabeth while she glanced around at the ladies on the benches. Their interest only fixed momentarily in their direction, then back again to their gossiping companions.

"They are looking at us, thinking who is that delightful creature on Mr Darcy's arm. You will be the talk of the town before sundown."

"But they will think you are walking out with a widow!" gasped Elizabeth, "I am still dressed in black."

"They can think what they like. After we marry, you could wear muted colours or maybe white? It will not look too obvious, and you will still be observing half mourning. Maybe a black brooch or jewelled pin?"

"I do not possess such a piece," Elizabeth sighed, "I had to leave all my jewels behind as they formed part of the estate." Darcy thought on this. He would visit his jeweller in Sackville Street and gift Elizabeth something appropriate before the wedding. A piece that would signify her loss, but also could be worn after many years without looking out of place. She would already be entitled to the family jewels that were in his possession but felt this being his first gift, that it should be a new procurement to signify not only her loss but the birth of their new life together.

"Talking of your attire. You will need clothes for when you are out of mourning. Would you wish to do that before we wed?"

"Yes, but I do not wish to think of such things today. Maybe in a week or so, I can start preparations for that, maybe when your sister arrives. But do not make me buy a needless number of dresses. I can do with a handful; I am able to make do with my present clothes."

"You will be fitted for a whole new wardrobe. Please allow me to indulge my need to look after you. When Georgie comes to town, she will persuade you into purchasing many things, and I am sure she will stretch my purse strings to the full with a new wardrobe for herself," he chuckled. "My sister has a way of bending me to her whim."

"An ideal brother then."

"I believe she thinks so. But I do not begrudge her the small luxuries in life, and I will enjoy the entertainment you will provide, while Madam de Bois bustles around you both."

"Are you going to sit there and watch me pick fabrics and patterns?"

"Of course I am. Having Georgie there will give me an excuse to accompany you, but I may disappear for a short while, as I need to see my man, who is not far from the modiste's establishment. I need to put the papers in order."

"Papers? What papers?" asked Elizabeth, "Are we to have an announcement in The London Times? I do not wish to have society drawn to me with such speculation. I cannot deal with that presently."

"No, I will not be doing an announcement. I was under the impression that you did not wish for it to be public knowledge so soon. Besides, I am sure the gossips are far speedier than any London Paper," he stated as he saw two more people in whispered discourse as they periodically looked over at them. "I meant the settlement papers. I need to get those written up and given to your uncle." Elizabeth quietened at the thought that such papers were needed. Her mumbles on the matter were just coherent enough for Darcy to understand. "You feel like prized cattle? I can safely say that you are no such thing. The papers I refer to are there to determine the financial matters during our marriage and after I am gone, for the likelihood is that you will outlive me."

She frowned at the thought. It all seemed so indelicate, but this was how society functioned. As she broke from her thoughts, she noticed a huddle of women that had formed on the other side of the pond. "Lord! There are more over there! They all look like little puppies clutching at each other for warmth. What do you suppose they are saying?… _Am I not good enough? Why is Mr Darcy out strolling with a widow? Ah! I know_ _… '_ _Why is she so short?'"_ Elizabeth projected with a theatrical tone.

"Ha! It is I who is rather tall. They are probably mothers of daughters who have an interest in becoming my wife. They are thinking that it is all too late for them now."

"Do you really have that many matchmaking mothers at your heels?"

"Yes, that is one reason why I am not good at public gatherings." _The other being my total lack of conversation when in the company of a pretty woman,_ he thought, but he smiled at how comfortable he had been with Elizabeth. "I never know when a maiden or a widow is trying to compromise me by inducing me into her bed."

"But surely you were able to seek out a mistress? Your handicap to exert yourself in society cannot be that hindering," asked Elizabeth, in all innocence.

"Good grief, woman! Where did that come from?"

He stopped in his tracks. Elizabeth turned to reply, "Oh… Just that it is usual amongst your society, is it not? I was led to believe all gentlemen of the ton keep them. I just assumed you had kept one in the past… and maybe the present." Elizabeth stopped herself, then frowned on the realisation of her words. Was Darcy still in an arrangement with a cyprian? She did not think until that moment that he could be bedding another to this day, even if he declared himself to be shy. He did not love her, and only God Almighty knew who he would take his fancy after they were married.

Darcy was quiet. Even though he had never sought out an exclusive mistress of his own, he was far from inexperienced. As part of his education, his father had hired a tutor in the arts of lovemaking, and Darcy spent a full week under her instruction. Also, he had later taken to her establishment to relieve his built up urges every few months or so. The silence that prevailed was uncomfortable, but she did not wish to pursue the topic, and all other thoughts had been pushed to the back of her mind as it filled with 'what ifs.' Darcy, however, wanted to make one thing clear. "I do not have a lover." This announcement gave Elizabeth much to think on. Had he had them in the past? Even if he did not have one at present, would he be inclined to have them in the future, regardless of having a wife at home?

The atmosphere between them continued in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes before Darcy thought to elaborate on the contents of his letter. "The note I sent to Georgiana also requested that Wickham join the party. Do you remember George Wickham?" Elizabeth looked quizzical, trying to remember back to 1796. "I think you used to call him Tricky-Wicky. He had an accident when you were at Pemberley. He fell out of a tree."

"Yes! Now I remember! How is he?"

Darcy knew he had to tell her of the man's impairment, for she would see it all too quickly, once he came to town. "There is something I need to tell you," he said as he fidgetted on the spot. "Wickham never fully recovered from that accident. He walks with sticks and can only move around the house in that way. If he goes out, it is either with the use of a Bath chair or a modified perambulator, which his nurse pushes."

As Elizabeth came to understand the full force of his statement, tears appeared which threatened to spill. "Was that due to my challenge?"

"It was an accident, Elizabeth. I hope you are not blaming yourself for his injuries, for it was no one's fault." Darcy tried to soothe her sorrows. "Please do not upset yourself. It happened so long ago, and Wickham is resigned to his lot in life."

"So, he does not blame me?"

"Of course he does not. It was a challenge which he accepted gladly. At the time he was not angry with you or held the blame at your door and that has been his fixed attitude ever since."

"I wish I could turn back time and have not said anything. Mr Wickham would be a fit able man going about his business."

"Who knows what would have happened. We could have fallen out of friendship; George could have joined the militia and be ruining every girl in sight with his lecherous ways. But putting that silly notion aside, he lives comfortably in a pretty cottage on the estate and with the assistance of Mrs Peters, his nurse; he does well enough for himself. He spends most of his time at the big house, so he is not in need of company."

"Is he married?"

"No. I think he chooses not to be… Now, I better get you back home, before your aunt sends out the Runners to find you, for we only said we would be an hour."


	12. Missives

-0-

The express from London arrived at Pemberley the following afternoon, which delighted Georgiana. She had been anticipating a delivery for days, if not weeks, as she had not heard from her brother in over a month; not since he had informed her of his injury at Netherfield Park.

On opening the letter, she let out a happy shrill as she read the words upon the page. At last, her brother had put his own happiness first. He had spent the previous five years building up what he called his 'safety net' from the money left to him by Grandmama Fitzwilliam. She did not know what his safety net was but understood the impact of its effects, which caused her brother to be kept from her company for more hours that she cared.

She could not wait to tell Wickham the news, so donned her bonnet and spencer and ran out the door towards Primrose Cottage, which lay on the outskirts of the main park.

Wickham was sitting by the window in the front parlour reading his newspaper when he perceived Georgiana heading towards the house. It was not long before she unceremoniously burst into the room, waving her missive in the air. "George! Such wonderful news!" she chimed.

"Morning, Georgie. What has got you all excited? _Has Mrs Reynolds finally run off with that tall, blond-haired footman?_ _"_ Wickham replied calmly. He had seen Georgiana in such a state many a time, so did not think anything untoward. At least he hoped it was not untoward and that Mrs Reynolds had not run off. This dilemma would leave Pemberley in a dire state after it lost the services of such an excellent housekeeper.

"No, silly. What an awful thing to say. Mr Mansford is half her age, and Mrs Reynolds does not wish to leave Pemberley."

"I suppose she does not. She is too attached to the place and its occupants. So what brings you here if it is not the servants eloping?"

"A letter," she announced, "from brother."

"Well, sit down, Poppit, and I will ask Mrs Peters to prepare some refreshments," Wickham stated as he tried to calm down an overactive sprite, who had taken to dancing around the room. "Georgie, you need to sit down before you fall and do yourself a mishap," he now said with growing concern. "The wooden floor will be slippery in your slippers."

"You will never guess what news this note brings… You will not, so I shall just have to tell you. Brother is getting married! He has asked that we all join him in London as soon as can be. What joy! I will have a sister at last!" she laughed as she sat down, but her excitement made her start to bounce up and down in her seat.

"So, your brother is finally getting wed." _I wonder if it is a Miss Bennet?_ he thought.

"He says it is a Miss Elizabeth Bennet and it was a reacquaintance. Do I know her?"

"I do not think you do. We all knew each other as children; you were just a babe in the cot. She stayed at Pemberley with her father the year I had my accident."

"He sounds so happy in his letter."

"Does he? Can I see?" Wickham was shocked at this revelation. "Good grief!" he exclaimed as he read the letter, "Darcy certainly is joyous. I have never known him to be so enthusiastic about this sort of thing. He has never been interested in women to this extent."

"But you are not interested in women, are you George? Do you mean to settle down too, one day?"

"I do not know. I am unsure I will be able to make a wife happy with my weaknesses, and I doubt I will fit into the realms of an ideal husband, so I tend not to even think about it," he said eyeing Mrs Peters, who had come in with the tea tray. "I get by though, Georgie. I want for nothing as I have my family close by and a woman to look after me," he added, with a covert wink to his nurse.

"But you would make a wonderful husband; you are so caring and attentive. It is only your legs that do not work properly, is it not?… Oh!" she gasped as she thought that maybe he had difficulties in other aspects of life.

Georgiana knew of the male anatomy through her interest in the arts, and she had born witness to the dogs on the streets of London and the livestock in the surrounding farms when she had visited the tenants with her brother. However, she was not sure if this was how a man and his wife would conduct themselves in the privacy of their bedchambers. Her silence as she pondered on the matter was deafening, but Wickham quickly broke the atmosphere by offering her a slice of cook's Banbury cake.

Little did Georgiana know, but Darcy had employed a nurse to look after Wickham when he took over the estate. During her first week at the cottage, Wickham had awoken to a somewhat demanding issue, but it was nothing that Mrs Peters, who was a widow of three and thirty, could not handle and the situation was quickly resolved. To Wickham's delight, any further conditions that had occurred were dealt with in a similar fashion.

"I hope we can leave in the morning. Do you think that is enough time for you to prepare? I know Mrs Peters will have to come with us and Mrs Annesley has also been invited."

"I do not need much warning, so able to indulge your appetite to be gone posthaste. I can have Mrs Peters help me pack tonight. It would be best if we use my carriage, for it is more comfortable for my needs and there is ample room for all of us, plus Blakeney and his rifle can ride on top with your coachman— What's his name?— Stapler! The spare wheelchair is still at Darcy House, so no need to take another."

Georgiana got up and started to skip around the room once more, to Wickham's chagrin.

* * *

A few days later, the Bingley siblings were sitting in the drawing room. Bingley had been attempting to read a novel he had found in his small library all morning but was having difficulty deciphering the long words, and Caroline was looking over the menus that the housekeeper had prepared the day before. As Bingley got to a somewhat incomprehensible part of the story, the butler arrived with the post."By Jove! You will never guess what has happened, Caroline."

"What, Charles?" Caroline looked up from her agenda with a hint of curiosity.

"No, you need to tell me what I have in my hand," he implored. She would never hazard a guess at the news the missive brought.

" _A piece of paper,"_ she said dryly.

"Oh, Caroline, please do not be so banal."

"Just tell me, Charles. I am not in the mood for your childish games. I had enough of those when you were a child."

"Well, no need to be like that, sister. I was only asking you to guess what I have in my hand."

"It is the morning post. So what does it contain."

"Guess," he laughed.

"Charles! I am trying to sort out your meals for the next sennight. Just tell me!"

"Very well. Darcy is getting married," Bingley beamed.

"What! That cannot be, but how? When? Who?" she cried out in such shock. She did not envisage the man declaring himself to another.

"Well, from his note, he is, and he is happy about it. He doesn't state when or who, but has asked us to go to town for the wedding. I wonder if we are acquainted?" he pondered aloud.

"But he cannot marry. What about me?"

"What about you, Caroline?"

"But I… I thought we had an understanding. He cannot marry anyone else. I won't allow it!"

"You did not have an understanding with the man, and there is nothing you can do."

"But he has shown me more consideration than anyone else. Surely, he would not lead me to believe we were betrothed when we were not."

"He did nothing of the kind. He did not pay you any particular attention that deemed his interest in you. Do you think just because he stayed at my house and we have been invited to Pemberley once in the four years we have known him, you have some unspoken agreement?"

"Yes."

"Oh, dear sister, that is an idiotic notion. He has not asked for a private audience with the intent of proposing. You are fooling yourself to think he was soft on you. I have never seen him pay any singular regard towards you other than the sister of a friend. I have warned you on more than one occasion not to expect anything from that quarter."

"Yes, he has shown me a distinct regard. When we dance at balls, he always asks for the first dance."

"And that is out of pure politeness and necessity. Darcy gets the formalities over and done with so that he can skulk off to the card tables or billiard rooms."

"Formalities‽ How dare you label the attentive actions of a gentleman towards a lady, formalities! I refuse to agree with you, and I will not listen to any more of your words. Please excuse me." She said as she abruptly stood and took her leave.

"Caroline. I hope you will not make things difficult for them when we visit. If you cause a scene, I will have no qualms in sending you back to Scarborough, where you can take up residence with Aunt Agatha again. I am sure she will enjoy your company." She ignored his wishes and exited the room; slamming the door behind her.

Caroline was more determined than ever. She had to stop the marriage, and if she could not, then she would be satisfied with being a mistress of a different sort. Her determination to have him had clouded her judgement, and it was not long before Caroline was planning her strategy. How could she travel north with the newlyweds, if her preferred plans of breaking up the engagement failed? Once ensconced in the household, Caroline would work her magic and lure him into her bed. The prestige of the position as Mrs Darcy had now been overtaken by the man himself; she wanted his attention, she wanted his love, but most of all, she was determined that the interloper would not have his heart, at any cost.

* * *

The Pemberley party had travelled the one hundred and fifty miles from the depths of Derbyshire and arrived at the noble Grosvenor Square residents by the middle of the afternoon. "Brother!" Georgiana cried out as she entered the vestibule. "Where are you?" Wickham was following close behind, with assistance from Mrs Peters. Once they were all safely in the vestibule, the companion and nurse were shown to their rooms, where they stayed to allow the family privacy.

On hearing the commotion outside, Darcy came from his study to greet them. "Georgie! Wickham! It is good to see you." Georgiana jumped into his arms and Darcy unceremoniously twirled her around, and thus making her squeal with delight.

"Well done, Darce, I knew you would get hitched before me," Wickham greeted, as the men shook hands.

"But you have no intention of marrying. You told me you were not interested in women," Georgiana puzzled.

"That I did," he said, but gave a conspiratorial wink to Darcy.

"Miss Bennet will be here soon to meet with you both. She is due at three," Darcy confirmed as he noticed the hall clock showed five minutes to the hour. "You have made good timing."

"I cannot wait. I am so looking forward to meeting your lady."

They moved into the parlour where tea had been prepared. "Oh, good! You have fairy cakes. I am so hungry after our journey," Georgiana stated as she gazed upon the sweet tray.

"Just a few minutes, sister. I do not wish to start without Miss Bennet. In fact, I think I hear her now," he smiled as he recognised her voice from outside. He stood as the door opened when the butler allowed the visitor to enter. "Thank you, Gladstone." Luckily, Mrs Gardiner had allowed Elizabeth to attend alone but insisted on a maid as a travelling companion, who was now being led to the servants' quarters below stairs. There were to be others in the party, so a chaperone would not be needed. This, Elizabeth rejoiced in, for she would feel the freedom of not having so many intrusive eyes upon her when she met with the Pemberley visitors.

Darcy promptly made introductions, and the ladies greeted each other in a way that was proper, but all Georgiana wanted to do was embrace her soon-to-be sister, so she did. "I am so happy my brother has finally found someone to share his life with, and at the same time giving me a much-desired sister. I know we will be best of friends, Elizabeth… Oh, can I call you by your given name?"

"You may, but only if you permit me to call you Georgiana… I do not have the luxury of any siblings of my own; I do not even claim to have a brother, so you have the advantage over me."

"Well, you can have a sort of brother now, George, he can do just as well," she chuckled as she looked over to Wickham, who was planted firmly on the settee.

Elizabeth smiled before making her way to sit beside him. On seeing his canes leaning against the seat, her heart sank.

"Please forgive me if I do not get up, Miss Bennet. I'm a bit stiff after the journey."

"But you have been sitting down for the past three days?" Georgiana said with confusion.

"Precisely, Poppit. I have not done my quota of exercises in that time. I'll be right as rain once Mrs Peters sees to my needs."

"I am sorry, Mr Wickham," Elizabeth lamented.

Wickham would hear none of it. He placed her hands in his and bid Elizabeth to dampen any apologies she wished to give, for they were not warranted. "Do not fret. I know what you are about to say and it is all in the past," he soothed, knowing that the lady was taking the blame.

"But if-"

"No 'but ifs' for it was an accident, and you did not make me do what I did. I want none of this sympathy, only smiles Miss Bennet, for it is a time to rejoice. _Although on second thoughts, you are marrying Darcy, so I should give my commiserations,"_ he laughed. _"And why are you not calling me Mr Tricky-Wicky?"_ Wickham's lightheartedness brought a calmness to the lady, and she smiled sweetly at the man beside her. She looked around the room and saw Georgiana eager in her actions, and it was not long before the youngster sat down on the other side and offered a hug, which brought many smiles and chuckles from the group on the couch.

Darcy watched the cluster of the people most dear to him in life and breathed a contented sigh, for he had all that he wished for right there in his parlour: Wickham, his childhood friend, Georgiana, his beloved sister and Elizabeth, his lover. All sat, huddled together on the settee making merry. "Is there any room for me?"

 _"You could sit on my lap Darcy, but I fear you may do me more damage."_ Elizabeth's joyful countenance fell as she gasped in horror at Wickham's words. "This is how I am and will remain, so I just have to mock my own shortcomings. I will not allow them to beat me down into depression."

"But you are making light of the situation."

"What else is there to do? For if I do not, I will surely crumble into a miserable mess and that would not benefit anyone," he shrugged. Elizabeth observed his expression. She gathered that this was his coping mechanism in life.

Georgiana got up and allowed her brother to sit next to his betrothed, but instantly planted herself upon his lap.

"If anybody should walk in now and see us like this, they would think we were all mad," Elizabeth stated.

"Or having an org-"

"George!" Darcy shouted. "You are as incorrigible as Richard!"

"What is an org?" Georgiana asked innocently.

"Nothing. It is just Wickham, being Wickham." Darcy gave Wickham a stern look. How dare he mention orgies in front of his betrothed and sister. Both maids and ignorant of what happens in some darkened establishments that only undesirables attend. "Georgie, before I forget, I want you to accompany us to Bond Street next week, as Miss Bennet requires a new wardrobe. George, that invitation excludes you, as I know you will not wish to go and will thank me for not inviting you to a morning of boredom. I will need to attend as Miss Bennet's account needs to be arranged and then I have a meeting with Mr Pearce."

"Your attorney?" Georgiana asked. "Why do you need to see him?"

"Oh, matters relating to the wedding. It is nothing to concern yourself about. So, Madame de Bois?" he smiled.

"Oh, I love that modiste. Elizabeth, you will be so pampered there. They serve high tea with hot chocolate. It is better than you can get at Gunter's and they serve it with Ratafia cakes with strawberries and cream, and sometimes they chop the strawberries and add them to the cream, then drizzle chocolate over the top," she gushed.

"I knew you would be happy. While there, you may wish to update your wardrobe for the coming winter months."

"Thank you, brother. How many may I have?"

"How many do you want?" he replied, indicating that he did not mind and with that Georgiana hugged her brother so tightly that it was threatening his windpipe. "So long as you do not bankrupt me, that is all I ask."

"I do not deserve such a wonderful brother as you."

"Nor I a husband," Elizabeth oozed as she watched the siblings interact.

"Enough of this lovey-dovey stuff. Who's pouring the tea?" George quipped.


	13. Dinner at Darcy House

The following week, Darcy house was full with the addition of the Bingleys, who were to dine there that evening. They arrived at Hurst House in the morning, and after spending the day with a heavily swollen, yet happy Louisa Hurst, arrived at Darcy's home a little before seven o'clock and just after the Cheapside residents and the Viscount.

"Well, I'll be struck down with a feather! If it is not Miss Elizabeth Bennet!" exclaimed Bingley, with eager delight.

"Mr Bingley! I was not aware you knew Mr Darcy," responded Elizabeth with a small amount of surprise that Darcy knew such a Lothario, even if he was sweet in nature.

"We have been close friends for a few years now. When Darcy explained in his letter that he was to marry, I would never have guessed it would be you." Mr Bingley was all smiles, but he had to admit to himself that there was a small frisson of jealousy prevailing. Remembering that his friend was finally settling down after having never taken an interest in the gentler sex, he pushed his indecent thoughts to the back of his mind in the understanding that such felicity would finally encompass the taciturn gentleman.

Darcy was rather subdued. He did not question their already established acquaintance in the hopes that it would not bring forward his residence at Netherfield, but it was not to be; Bingley let slip that very same secret that Darcy was longing to conceal. "Why did you not come to the Assembly?" Elizabeth enquired after hearing the revelation.

"I would have, Miss Bennet, if it had not been for the fall. I had been thrown from my horse that morning and could barely stand, let alone walk and was made to rest. Not long after my recovery, I returned to London." He did not wish to lie, but he told an untruth through omission. If he divulged the actual reason, which only he was privy to, it would bring much distress to the woman he cherished.

Darcy pondered on his mood at that time. He had no wish to be in Hertfordshire, although he had agreed for the benefit of helping his friend with estate matters. Darcy remembered he tried to wheedle his way out of the ball and was thankful when during that morning, he had been injured sufficiently to evade the evening's entertainment. If he had attended, he knew that his disgruntled disposition would deem him terrible company, and the likelihood of everyone at the gathering seeing him as some despicable, arrogant prig was great. No, it had worked out for the best; the first impression of the gentleman in that county would have been dire, and Elizabeth would have born witness to his downfall.

* * *

Within a few minutes, all were settled in the parlour. Caroline Bingley had scarcely said two words together, but this did not stop her from observing the happy couple. She seethed and cursed the country bumpkin under her breath every time Darcy had paid her any amount of attention. Caroline tried to decide what would be the easiest and quickest way to rid the gentleman from such a barnacle. Murder was out of the question for she did not wish to ruin one of her dresses with the crimson stains that would flow, blackmail was also another option, but she knew little of the woman and could not think of something to hold against her. Maybe kidnapping, but she did not know anyone who would be willing to risk their own freedom for a few shillings. Attempting to fix herself to the man who was designed for her and her alone would only be accomplished if it was of her own doing. _I wonder if Miss Eliza would withdraw from the arrangement if she were to become aware that Mr Darcy kept a mistress and refused to give her up?_ she pondered. _Maybe I should write a note and tell her as a concerned friend._ But then she had another idea; she would write the missive as if she were the woman he was having explicit relations with, for who could not believe the words of his inamorata as she confessed to their scandalous affair.

Her determination was great, and she did not even consider her reputation. She was only meant for Darcy and Darcy was meant for her. If that sullied her character, it would not matter one jot as they would be forced to marry, which is precisely where she wanted to be, Mrs Caroline Darcy. She could not let her lover ruin his life by tying himself to someone he would later regret. Who would think such a nasty insipid thing with little to promote herself, would become the great Mistress of Pemberley. No, with her own accomplishments and beauty, she deemed herself as a far superior choice for the man, and he could quickly toss Miss Bennet aside for a more refined creature. _Relations in trade! How dreadful,_ she secretly gushed, _for a man of the ton should not even be seen with such a woman in close proximity, let alone joined in matrimony._ She had neglected to remember or chose to forget, that Aunt Agatha had been brought up in a house next to the northern mills, which her family still owned. She also pleaded ignorance to the knowledge that the Bennet name had been known in the Hertfordshire area as a well-ensconced gentle family for many generations; almost as long as the Darcys had been commonplace in the north. She pondered on the idea of being the mistress of Pemberley and the balls that she could host. Dinner parties with family, which included an Earl and a Lady, no less. The Viscount would be a frequent visitor to her home, and all this would open avenues to mingle with the peerage as a whole.

 _"Miss Eliza, what a splendid gown. Did you get that here in London?"_ she asked, knowing full well the rather average black mourning dress was homemade and not very well done at that. Even though the fabric was of decent quality, the minimal amount of needlework that adorned the bodice had been done somewhat naively and with inferior thread. The disdain expression directed towards Elizabeth did not go unnoticed, and the genteel lady had to pull strength from within to stop herself from retorting.

"No, I made it myself, as you can no doubt tell, Miss Bingley," Elizabeth replied with an attempt of sincerity, but unsure if she succeeded. "As you can appreciate, I did not have time on my hands to make a better garment, for my father had just passed away and I had more urgent matters to attend to." She had already worked out within ten minutes of their introductions that Caroline would not be one of her favourites and therefore she knew to keep most treasured thoughts to herself. _How dare she pass a critical eye on my attire, considering that the garment has a purpose and it was more important to get myself into black with haste than fret over the quality of needlework._

"I thought I did not recognise the style and wondered if you had privately commissioned the garment from a local seamstress. _Maybe someone from_ _'Cheap'side,_ " she replied sarcastically before walking away to engage with Georgiana and so leaving the couple alone in the corner of the room.

Elizabeth looked up at Darcy, who was wearing a somewhat forbidding expression. His jaw was tight, with twitching muscles as he flexed, his nostrils flared as his breathing heightened. She knew he was enraged at the cutting remarks, but was glad he said nothing. Elizabeth moved closer and wrapped her hand around the crook of his elbow and pulled into his side; the physical contact allowed him to calm forthwith. Turning around to look at the woman next to him, Darcy sighed and let the affections he had flow freely through his body once more. "Thank you for not saying anything, Fitzwilliam," she whispered when no one was paying attention. "I did not wish to make a scene."

"Although I was angry, I do not think I would have said anything. I believe you had it all in hand."

"Yes, I can be a smouldering firecracker when I want to be. If Miss Bingley had said anymore, my shackles would have risen, and there would have been one almighty explosion, which I would not be able to refrain."

Their eyes were locked once more as the others were in discourse amongst themselves. Darcy could not help but allow his gaze to wander Elizabeth's pretty face, taking in all that was lovely as his free hand brushed against her soft cheek. Bathing in the gentleness of his caress, she allowed her eyes to close, leaned her face, then snuggled into his palm. "I wish I could kiss you," he breathed. Her eyes opened once more and stood before her was a man so full of emotion that it was threatening to entrench her heart forever. Even though they had to fight back their instincts to be close, he had never declared a wish to kiss her. She longed for their buss, but it was not to be as at that very moment, the dinner gong was sounded, and they were pulled from their personal bubble.

Luckily, the meal was a more pleasant experience. Darcy had spent some time earlier in the day, meticulously planning the seating arrangement, so that it was to his and Elizabeth's advantage. That would mean placing Elizabeth next to him on his right, which allowed her place of honour. Georgiana would be to his left, a seat that was solely reserved for his sibling. Caroline had been placed further down the seating arrangement, next to Wickham and hopefully out of earshot.

"I seem to remember you had fifteen squashed around this table some Christmas's ago," Richard said, smiling at the memory of the event three years previous. "I am sure someone ended up on another's lap in the middle of it all? I believe it was Lady Matlock."

"Your mother went to sit down and missed the seat and nearly fell, but as she twisted to save herself, she ended up on top of Georgie."

"And nearly squashed her, the poor thing," Richard chuckled. At this Georgiana blushed.

"I have never seen Aunt Cecilia like that before. She could not stand without swaying, and her speech!" Georgiana stated.

" _Between you, me, and the post, Mother can beat both myself and father in a drinking challenge; she had done it before, several times. But do not tell her that I told you, or she will whip me with her stick."_

"Aunt has a stick‽"

" _She does, she keeps it under the bed along with her shackles that she uses on father when he has been naughty."_

"Richard! Do not go telling untruths. You will make Georgie worry."

"Fair enough. I hold my hands up, cousin. It was all flimflam."

"So, when will you be returning to Pemberley, Mr Darcy? Will you be spending any time in town after your wedding?" Caroline called out from across the room.

 _Damn! I can still hear her,_ Darcy thought. _Maybe I should have put her out on the balcony and closed the doors._ "I have not decided yet. Whatever we choose, it may not be at Darcy house as there will still be guests here and I feel that myself and Mrs Darcy would like some time alone," he said as he watched Elizabeth nearly choke on her food. "Take a sip of wine," he added while handing a glass to her, but then grasped her other hand under the table for reassurance.

"If you agree, I can have your guests stay at Gracechurch Street. The house is big enough for several visitors at a time," Mr Gardiner stated.

Caroline's soup spoon stopped halfway between the bowl and her mouth. _He must be joking? Miss Darcy to stay in that part of town_ _‽ Unthinkable! Thank goodness we were not required to stay here, or we would have all ended up in 'Gracechurch Street.'_

"Oh, brother, can we?" Georgiana asked. Darcy looked at Richard for his approval, as co-guardian, he also had to agree.

"I do not mind if Georgie cares to stay with the Gardiners, Darcy. My parents are still at home and will be until after the wedding, but father has to deal with mother's situation at present. You know…. _The situation._ I will stay at Matlock house, as I do not mind her turns," Darcy knew that his aunt was still going through a sort of woman's crisis, which had gone on since the end of the previous year.

"What is wrong with Aunty Cecilia?" Georgiana asked.

"Oh, it is her age, and she will get over it soon enough. Nothing to concern yourself about."

"Well, I am up for resting my head at Gracechurch Street," Wickham bellowed. "I should be able to manage the stairs."

"How do you manage at Darcy House?" Caroline asked.

"Oh, my bedchambers are on the ground floor. Darcy converted the second parlour into quite a nice little resting place for me."

Darcy thanked Mr Gardiner for his kind offer and said he would discuss it with Elizabeth and let him know in a day or two. His wish was to take his wife away for a honeymoon after the wedding but thought Elizabeth would wish to forgo a trip until she was entirely out of mourning. Therefore, the wedding night would need to be at Darcy house as he did not wish to consummate their union in a rented room while travelling.

"I can take Georgie to Matlock if you want. We can stay a full month with mother and father. The house is bigger, so we will not get under mother's feet if she takes a turn. Wickham can travel back with Mrs Peters in his own carriage. If mother and father do not mind, we can hitch a ride back with them, _or maybe with you,_ _"_ he laughed.

"I do not think that will be necessary," Darcy warned.

" _No, I dare say it would not. I do not wish to be a gooseberry in such a confined space the day after the night before,"_ he answered sarcastically.

Georgiana was lost on the meaning and asked for clarification, "What do you mean, cousin?"

"Just that we-"

Richard held his hands up in defeat once he saw the anger on the host's face. He had had his little bit of fun and had now to relinquish his mocking in favour of a content host.

Darcy clarified that he hoped to stay at Darcy House for at least the wedding night, but afterwards their plans had yet to be determined. Elizabeth was sitting silently through the cousins' discourse. All this discussion of after the wedding brought with it a smattering of anxiety and it was not helped by Darcy's gentle strokes under the table. His fingers had tickled her palm for the previous ten minutes, and she had begun to feel rather odd. Finally, she drew on her fan when the heat in her cheeks had become unbearable. There was a severe threat of her fainting, and it would be indecorous to do so in company.

"Are you well, Miss Bennet?" asked Darcy, a little concerned at the flushed hue across her cheeks.

"Yes, I am just a little warm," she replied. Darcy did not let go of his contact, but drew the attention of one of the footmen, who immediately opened the windows at the end of the room, and so letting in much-needed air.

"Mr Wickham. I hear you also live at Pemberley," Caroline stated the obvious, for it had already been mentioned more than once during their introduction. Her eyes lit up at what she may have discovered to be her opportunity to travel north if her original plan did transpire.

"Yes, although I have investments to yield me a decent income, Darcy also patronises me. I have a pretty quaint cottage a stone's throw from the main house, so we are usually in each other's company quite often, daily in fact," Wickham advised, ignorant that he had let slip a most critical piece of information, something Caroline Bingley could work into her scheming.

"So, you are very close?" she asked as she moved slightly toward the man and so allowing her arm to press up against his. Wickham did take note of this slight, but poignant, shift and refused to pull away.

"Yes, we have known each other since we were children. I met Miss Bennet back when she was just a dot… I still have your jar you left at Pemberley," George called over to Elizabeth.

"My insect jar? Mr Darcy told me that it was still at Pemberley when he was telling us stories of that summer, hoping that I would remember. I recall the day in question. Mr Darcy tried to pour the jar over my head just before we came to see you and I bit him," she giggled, "Did those tadpoles ever turn into frogs?"

Darcy let out a roar of laughter, as he knew exactly what had happened, but let Wickham tell his tale. "Yes, worst luck! I had forgotten about them on my table, and the maids kept topping the water up in the jar with fresh pond water, and within a few weeks, the little critters were hopping about all over my bed. I woke up with one sitting on my forehead. It was as if it had stuck fast and I could do nothing but cry out for Mrs Reynolds."

"Ha! I remember that you cried your lungs out that day like a baby," Darcy laughed.

"Would not you with a mountain of baby frogs jumping around on your bed and one planted firmly on your face."

"Should have done what the French do," Richard stated.

"Ergh! No thank you," Georgiana cried out. "I am not chopping their legs off and frying them up in butter."

"Mm, delicious!" Richard teased. "You do not know what you are missing. We had them when we were in France in 1802. Luckily, that was a few months before father discovered I had joined up. One of the men found a little place outside of Calais. We discovered it on our way back to Dover, as we had to wait a day or two for the winds to lift before the ship would set sail. The little tavern in one of the back streets was a marvellous place to dine. Fine food and drink and the wenches were rather pleasing to the eye."

"Richard! There are ladies present," Darcy chastised. The Viscount lifted his glass once more and toasted the French for their exquisite culinary delights.

"So, Mr Wickham, is there a Mrs Wickham?" Caroline asked eagerly but tried to make it look like an innocent question. Wickham could see that she was attempting to entice him. Her tongue flicked out to lick her lips every once in a while, and her eyes would wander his face while she continued to interrogate him. He was no fool and knew that something was behind her odd behaviour, but he revelled in the attention.

 _"No, for no one will have me. I am all yours for the taking,"_ he joked, but this did not register as a humorous remark to Caroline, for she now had one thought in her mind. _If I were to ensnare Mr Wickham into marriage, I would be living next to Pemberley house. But what about my wifely duties? Can he perform with such a debilitating condition?_ She hoped he could not, as that would alleviate much despondency within the marriage.

"I am surprised. Such an easy going and handsome man that you are."

Wickham grinned as he played along with the flirtations. "And I may add that you are a rather lovely lady yourself. So we shall toast to loveliness in all," he said as he chinked her glass.

As dinner ended, the men ensconced to Darcy's study for a tipple and a cigar. The ladies made their way to the music room, where Georgiana took delight in playing the pianoforte.

"Elizabeth, do you sing?" she asked as she sat down at the instrument.

"I do, but I am not all that proficient. My voice is in tune, but it does not carry well."

"Then I will just have to play my instrument softly so that you can be heard," she smiled. "Do you know this? I have it in both English translation and German." Georgiana handed Elizabeth the piano score for Beethoven's Adelaide.

"Oh! Father loved me singing that around the house. He spoke fluent German and enjoyed the works of Friedrich von Matthisson. I will be able to do it in the native tongue it was written in."

* * *

"So Darcy, a month left, hey?" Richard nudged his cousin's shoulder. "It is about time you got your pleasures in life."

"Cousin, what is with you tonight? You are not paying attention to what comes out of your mouth and who is in the room at that time. Remember we have certain company with us."

"The ladies cannot hear me."

"No, but I can," Mr Gardiner stated firmly. "Do not worry. I know how you young men think. Remember, I was one once."

"It still does not give Richard the right to-" Darcy stopped as he could hear singing. "Good God! Who is that? She is singing in German!"

"That is your future wife. I thought you knew she could sing," Mr Gardiner stated. "She takes after her late mother, but my niece does not recognise her talent and refuses to believe it is anything, but average."

Darcy did not delay in taking the short walk from the study to the doorway of the music room. Standing on the threshold, he stopped, transfixed at the vision before him. She did not notice him at first and continued with her rendition of the German piece, but as she made her way through the bars, Elizabeth felt his presence behind her, prickling at her skin; she instinctively turned to his direction.

Two sets of dark brown eyes met, both smouldering and intense. Darcy could not move, his intention was only to absorb the loveliness that was before him. His eyes did not lose focus, nor did they flicker. They shone with fierce passion as they thirstily drank up the apparition which stood before him, for undoubtedly Elizabeth was some form of deity sent to him from the gods.

She could tell that he was affected by his amatory expression. His chest was visibly swelling and abating as he took deep breaths to fuel his beating heart. Darcy did not realise for some time, but it was at that very moment he had hopelessly fallen in love with her.

As the piece concluded, Mr Gardiner came to his side, "She is a treasure, is she not?"

"I believe you are right, Mr Gardiner. I promise to take good care of her, sir, there is no doubt on that score."

"Good, for I would not expect anything less from you, young man," he said as he jovially slapped him on the back.

"Mr Darcy! Are you to join the ladies?" Caroline cooed from her vantage point on the settee closest to the door. It was as though she had placed herself there deliberately, waiting for the gentlemen to return. Darcy's pensiveness had been rudely interrupted like a stab in the chest with a sharp blade as the harpy's screech reached his ears. Elizabeth's fascination had also lost its cleave, and she turned around before anyone, other than Darcy, noticed her blush. "Maybe you should all join us, for we are having such a merry time with the pianoforte," she added, with the knowledge that it was her turn to entertain. As the rest of the men returned to the gentler sex, Caroline took her seat at the instrument.

While flicking through the copious manuscripts, Wickham seated himself next to the pianist. "Would you care for me to turn the pages, Miss Bingley?" he asked. He sat a little closer than comfortable, to gauge her reception and to his surprise, she did not protest.

* * *

After Elizabeth, the Gardiners and Bingleys left, Georgiana took to her rooms as fatigue had taken hold. Darcy, Wickham and Richard returned to the study with one thing on their minds. "One last tipple before you go, cousin?" Darcy asked as he handed Richard a large tumbler full of liquor.

"Does Bingley's sister have any suitors hanging around?" Wickham asked in an attempt to seem nonchalant.

"No, why? Are you interested?" Darcy laughed, not thinking that his friend could ever take a fancy to that woman.

"I think she is lovely and was quite attentive this evening. I would not say no to pursuing her."

"Well, she seemed to pay particular attention to you with Darcy in the room. I do not think that has ever happened before."

"So, do you think I have a chance? I do not live the life of a true gentleman, but I have means to live a comfortable one. If things progress and we wed, then any dowry Miss Bingley has will be invested for the income. I will not spend it as some do."

"I understand that she has twenty thousand in her dowry, although I have been witness to Bingley fretting over her still being unmarried. At one point he was willing to increase her fortune slightly from his own purse if the right man came along," Darcy stated.

As the men finished their drinks, Richard called it a night, leaving Wickham and Darcy alone. "Are you serious about Caroline Bingley?"

"Yes, I think she is a beauty, I have always liked redheads. I must admit she seemed not to like your lady, but I imagine that to be jealousy on her part. She had a thing for you at one point, did she not?"

"Yes, and I think she still has. Be careful; there may be a reason behind her behaviour tonight."

"If it means I get a wife, I do not care, for I am fed up with being on my own with only Mrs Peters' company. I was content up until you announced your little piece of news, but now I want my own woman. I am still keen to move and settle down in Bath; you know I have wanted to for a while. The spas will help my aches, and they have good doctors there, so it is a good move."

Darcy rolled his eyes, for he had heard this all before. "I will only buy you the house once you are married. You cannot go off living by yourself in another part of the country, where you do not know anyone. At least have someone to settle down with."

"I can understand. So, if I do wed, you will not have any issues with the house?"

"No. I will buy it for your wedding gift," Darcy laughed, thinking nothing would come to light with the annoying redhead.


	14. The Attempts of a Desperate Harpy

Georgiana was eager for this day to arrive, as it would mean a morning spent at Madame de Bois' establishment in Bond Street and the most anticipated part being the high tea. The girl was devoted to the fashionable potable; there was no denying it. Darcy had almost bent to her whim when she harried her brother for more than a week; imploring him to purchase several boxes of chocolate lozenges when they were in town the year before. Darcy, however, would not have his sister drinking the sweet, creamy concoction three times a day. There was also the issue of his staff to be spending so much time preparing the beverage and could not justify the employment of another, just to aid his sister's whim.

 _*** Flashback_

"Pleeeeease," Georgiana pleaded, as she grabbed her brother's arm in an attempt to pull him into the shop.

"Why do you not just have it as a treat. I can buy some, but I will not purchase to the extreme. Cook has enough duties as it is."

"Can you not just employ another cook?"

"Georgie! Giving me that look will not make me change my mind. I am not employing someone just to make you a drink three times a day. You can have it on Sunday mornings before church, and that is all."

"Very well," she huffed.

 _***End of Flashback_

Georgiana rose from bed early, impatient for the day to begin and after seeing to her morning needs, she made her way downstairs.

Taking a light breakfast earlier than the rest of the household, she sat alone in the dining room until Caroline Bingley arrived. She had come calling upon Mr Wickham, who had yet to lift himself from his slumber. "Dear Georgiana, how wonderful to see you this morning, and just the person I needed to speak with. I hope you have time for a quiet word." Georgiana offered the lady a seat and poured her a cup of tea. "You have known Mr Wickham for quite a while, have you not?"

"Yes, since as long as I can remember. Mr Wickham is a wonderful man, so caring and considerate," she sighed, "but I feel that he is rather lonely."

"Why do you say that? Has he no family other than yourselves, or a lady companion perhaps?" Caroline asked, hoping to find out if, or if not, Wickham had previously entertained a woman.

"Mr Wickham is not interested. He has his nurse, but she is only a servant, not a friend," Georgiana stated innocently, "He has taken quite an interest in you though. I noticed last week when you were sitting at the pianoforte, and since then you have both been inseparable.

"I get the impression from what he has said in the past, that he feels no woman would want him due to his disabilities. He told me not so long ago that he did not fit into the 'idea of an ideal husband,' those were his words."

Caroline was astonished, yet happy, at this revelation; he would not be fit enough to consummate the marriage if she were to end up in the position of Mrs Wickham."So Mr Wickham will not be able to father children, is that what you are saying?" Caroline interrogated.

"I do not know. The impression I perceived was that things did not work as they should… down there. I am ignorant of what happens between a husband and wife, but know it has something to do with a man's body… in that area."

This was music to Caroline's ears. Wickham's only attentions would be the odd kiss or two. _Yes, I can see myself very well situated with Mr Wickham, and so close to Mr Darcy,_ she happily pondered.

* * *

Madam de Bois' establishment was abound with the finest fabrics and trims that Elizabeth had ever seen. Ensuring that both his future wife and sister were settled in the back parlour, Darcy took his leave for a few minutes while he discussed his account with the modiste at the front of the shop, which had been solely reserved for the Darcy party. "As you may be aware, Miss Bennet and I will soon be married, and I require an account set up in her name," the modiste nodded. "As such, I wish for her to have whatever she wants, so long as she does not leave here with anything less than three dozen dresses for both day and evening, shoes and bonnets to match and an assortment of undergarments, night clothes and outerwear. Also, I wish-" he stopped to clear his throat, "this is rather embarrassing… I wish for you to make her wedding night attire as per my instructions."

The modiste tried to hold back a smile, "And she is not to know?"

"That is correct," Darcy stated warily.

"And would this be sheer fabric?"

"Yes. What do you suggest?"

"Maybe something in white Chantilly lace, to show her virtue, but quite short and the fabric most definitely diaphanous."

Darcy lost his breath for a moment visualising Elizabeth in such an alluring garment. "Yes, I would like that very much," he asked with an affected voice. "How short is short, may I ask?" The modiste placed her fingers against her own thighs indicating very short. He pondered for a few seconds then gulped his reply, "That will be perfect."

"No sleeves and fine shoulder straps would work well?"

"Yes." His eyes widened.

"And do you care for the straps to tie up on the shoulders?"

"Dear Lord!" he exclaimed under his breath, thinking he would just need to pull the ends for the thing to come undone and tumble to the floor. After the fabric had pooled at her feet in his mind, he composed himself. "I think that will finish it off admirably. Do whatever you see fit, madam, for I trust you implicitly. Just do not let Miss Bennet know and send the parcel for that particular item directly to me."

* * *

When Elizabeth arrived back at Gracechurch Street later that afternoon, she was in fine spirits. The day at the modiste was more than she had anticipated and thought she had spent far more than necessary, but Darcy would have none of her frugality. Never had she been so pampered and Georgiana was correct; the hot chocolate they served was the best she had ever tasted.

As she removed her bonnet and handed it to the maid, her aunt approached her in the vestibule. "A letter arrived for you not long after you left this morning," she advised as she handed her niece the missive.

"It must be from Charlotte. I wrote to her last week of the news. But, it does not look like her hand?" she pondered, "Aunt, I will go to my rooms to read this if you do not mind. I will be down shortly."

* * *

Elizabeth sat on the edge of the bed and proceeded to open the letter. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the signature at the bottom, for it was from Caroline Bingley.

.*.

 _Dear Miss Eliza_

 _I write to you as a concerned friend, one who hopes to put the full story to you before it is too late and you tie yourself to someone who will never love or respect you._

 _I doubt that you will be aware of the situation that you now find yourself in, and therefore I must advise you of such before you take your vows._

 _Let me tell you at once, as it is my duty as a dear friend. There is a third person in your union, for Mr Darcy keeps a mistress. I have it on great authority that he will not relinquish her once you are wed. Mr Darcy has already provided ample allowance to the lady, and once you travel north to Pemberley, he will make arrangements to purchase a house close by and settle her there. This is with a view of visiting her regularly so that he can take his pleasures away from the marital home and without his wife ever finding out._

 _How do I know this? Because I am she. Mr Darcy and I have been lovers for the past two years, and he has come to me regularly during his time in the south. He also tends to take a small cottage on a lease when he is in the north, but once he is married he has less intentions of travelling south, so wishes that I take up permanent residence in Kympton._

 _I know this may sound absurd, but he has already relayed to me that we are committed for life, and he will not release me from our arrangement. Therefore, it will be you who suffers, as I will continue to take my enjoyment from your husband, even if he beds you daily in order to give him his heir, for that is the only reason he is marrying you. A country girl of a stout constitution will be strong enough to bear him children on a yearly basis and therefore provide a hoard of offspring that a man such as he requires. You are no more than a breeding mare in the gentleman_ _'_ _s eyes._

 _I know this may alarm you, madam, if you are indeed ignorant of our affair. I thought it only best that you receive knowledge of our circumstance before you pledge your freedom to a man, who as you can see, has no guilt in making his wife a cuckquean._

 _Before you doubt the content of this missive, you will need first to wonder how I know of his three-inch scar upon his throat and chest. Do you think any woman other than his wife, a mother, or a mistress would know of such a mark?_

 _I hope you take heed of this missive and act accordingly, for I would hate to see a dear creature such as yourself be irreparably humiliated._

 _Remember, he has not declared his heart to you, as that belongs to me._

 _Yours truly_

 _CB_

 _.*._

It had been Caroline's luck that during one night at Netherfield Park, when her brother and his friend had been drinking, that she had wandered into the room while they were both in a drunken slumber. Darcy, having removed his neckcloth and unfastened his top buttons to his shirt, was spread out on the couch in a stupor and so gave her the opportunity to gaze upon the permanent mark.

Elizabeth dropped the letter to the floor, not knowing what to think of its content. She fell back onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling, hoping that the expanse of whiteness would show some resolve, but as she lay there, the tears filled her eyes and escaped forming wet streams across her temples.

 _Has he a mistress?_

 _Caroline Bingley of all people._

 _But Fitzwilliam despises her. It is obvious._

 _No! This cannot be, she is just the sister of a friend._

 _But what about the scar?_

She then thought back at her time in Pemberley and Darcy showing her the mark. It was positioned that only those who were intimate, or his valet, would take notice.

 _You cannot see it unless he removes his neck-cloth and top buttons. How does she know of it if she is not who she says she is?_

 _Could she be telling the truth?_

 _Is he pleasuring himself with her?_

 _But he said he had no mistress when I questioned him in the park?_

 _He would not lie to me_ _…_ _Surely._

She sat up again as she thought further.

 _I do trust him; I have no cause to doubt what he says._

 _He did not deny having mistresses in the past, just that he was not bedding anyone at present._

 _How long before you call it the past?_

 _A day, a week, a month, or a year?_

 _He is a gentleman of high circles; it is commonplace for gentlemen of the ton to have lovers._

 _No, that is an assumption, stereotype behaviour. Not all men are like that!_

 _Not Fitzwilliam, he cannot do that to me!_

 _But he has not known me long enough to end any liaisons he has._

 _She is right; he has never said he loves me._

 _Does he love her? Is she the one who has his heart?_

 _No, it is all lies!_

 _I trust him._

 _I do_ _…_

She lay there sobbing for a full half an hour before she fell to sleep through sheer exhaustion.

As she had not made an appearance downstairs, the matron made her way to her niece's bedchambers and entered. She found Elizabeth fast asleep on the bed and was about to retreat into the corridor when she spotted the abandoned note on the floor. Mrs Gardiner had no intention to read such a private correspondence, but certain words on the page caught her eye as she placed it upon the tallboy. She had to continue and read.

She had keenly observed the woman at the night of the dinner party and noted Darcy's reaction to Elizabeth's and Caroline's discourse. He did not seem attentive to Miss Bingley and had placed her as far away from him at the dinner table as he could. But this could all be a ploy in order to not rouse suspicion. Was it true? Or was it the making of a jealous, spiteful woman?

She gazed back at her niece, who was still asleep on the bed. As she watched, she saw a tear escape; she was sobbing in her sleep. At that moment, Mrs Gardiner knew she had to see Mr Darcy.

* * *

"Sir, Mrs Gardiner to see you," Gladstone announced.

"I am not expecting Mrs Gardiner, but show her in."

The woman entered, but did not look pleased; Darcy noticed this instantly. As she sat upon the settee, she handed him the letter and said nothing. Mrs Gardiner watched a multitude of expressions play across his face as he read the words on the page. Portraying confusion, then dismay, and finally anger. "How dare she say such lies," he growled violently; grasping the note tight into the palm of his hand. "HOW DARE SHE!"

"I take it this is all fabricated nonsense then? I did not think it was the case, as what lady would admit to such a scandalous affair."

"Of course it is not true. Miss Bennet knows I would not act like a cad... Dear God! Has she seen this? You do not think she believes this claptrap?" he exclaimed and turned to look at the woman, who had just sighed. "What did she say?"

"I do not know what she thinks. I went to her rooms and found her asleep on the bed. I noticed the note on the floor and left with it to come here. I must say though; she was sobbing in her sleep."

"No! No!" he said frantically over and over again, as he paced the room back and forth. "She cannot believe this drivel. I have told her things that would not make her doubt me."

"Do you have that scar and is my niece aware of it?"

"Yes," Darcy answered. "As children, we discussed scars that we had; I showed it to her when I mentioned my accident and subsequent injury."

"How do you think Miss Bingley knew about it?"

"I do not know. I have just been trying to remember a time where my neckcloth was off, but I only go without it on occasion at home and never in polite society. I know Bingley is aware of it as I have on more than one occasion while having a drinking session late at night with him, undone my cravat and top buttons." Darcy stopped and thought of something; something started to become clear. "I must see Elizabeth. Please let me see her."

"You will have to, to explain all this."

* * *

The short trip back to Gracechurch Street took too long in Darcy's mind. As they entered the vestibule, the butler confirmed that Elizabeth was still in her rooms and was refusing to come down, as her maid had enquired if she wished for tea the hour before and she refused most verbally. On this, and with little thought, Darcy hastened towards the stairs but stopped on the first step. He knew that he would not be permitted to go up and see her.

"Let me persuade her to come down. She will probably oblige knowing you are here. I think all she needs is reassurance," Mrs Gardiner asserted. "Go to the morning room, and I will send her to you."

As Mrs Gardiner came to the locked door, she called out her niece's name, but there was no reply. She knocked and again no response. "Elizabeth, if you do not open this door, I will get the master keys from your uncle and make him aware of your silliness," she demanded.

"No, go away. I do not wish to see or speak to anyone!"

"Mr Darcy is downstairs. He wishes to talk," Mrs Gardiner said, trying to persuade her niece.

"I do not wish to see him. He will tell me it is all true and I will be left on the shelf, to grow old as a jilted spinster. Tell him to go home and never return! I relinquish him from our understanding, so he can go marry Miss Bingley!"

"Elizabeth, that is nonsense. You leave me with little alternative; I am going to send for your uncle." With that, Mrs Gardiner returned to the morning room. "She will not come down. I have to fetch Mr Gardiner."

On hearing this, Darcy did not wish for the older gentleman to be pulled from his business, "Let me try," he stated as he walked from the room. He stood on the middle step of the stairs, neither on the ground nor the first floor and shouted, "Elizabeth Bennet! If you do not come down here now, I will have to come up there and force my way into your room and carry you down, kicking and screaming, if needs be. Do you hear me‽" The door quickly opened and she shouted back her refusal through a narrow chink. "So do you want me to do what I have just threatened? Break down the door? You will then have to explain the damage to your uncle," he said, now with more anger than annoyance at her stubbornness. "I did not think it of you to believe such rubbish and from Miss Bingley, of all people. She means nothing to me! Do you hear me‽"

"I want to be left alone, Mr Darcy. Please go home," she said, her voice cracking as she begged him to leave.

"No. I am not leaving until you come down, even if I have to ask for a cot to be assembled on the landing. We need to sort this out. I will not leave you overnight to brood."

On this, Darcy got her attention. She came out of her room, marched down the stairs, pushing past where he stood on the ninth step and into the morning room. Darcy followed her, and Mrs Gardiner was close behind.

He knelt in front of her as she sat on the settee so that he was able to look her in the face. "It is all lies, Elizabeth," was all he had to say before the floodgates opened. "It is the making of a jealous woman, her attempts at making sure we do not wed. Could you not feel her reaction to you when you came to dinner? You knew I was angry at her behaviour; I was more than angry, I was livid. She attempted to discredit you with her disrespectful comment about your mourning dress. I was tempted to interrupt her but realised you could handle yourself admirably, my little firecracker. That is just a sample of what she is capable of, believe me, for I have witnessed it several times with ladies to whom Bingley has had an interest in. Miss Bingley has scared off more prospective wives for her brother than she can count with her vicious tongue. Because of that, he just enjoys their company and has no intention to settle. She will never succeed to break up our union. I will not allow it!"

Mrs Gardiner took her leave and left the room, as she could see that Darcy was holding his own and doubt there was any need for a chaperone at that moment. As the door was pulled shut, he saw Elizabeth turn away from his direction.

"Do not turn away. You do not believe her evil, do you?" Darcy gasped.

Elizabeth looked back and shook her head, "No, I do not." He sat beside her and took her into his arms. As he did, she went limp and fell into his warm embrace. "She wrote such awful things, Fitzwilliam."

"I know, none of which is true."

"But how… The scar!"

"She must have ventured in on myself and Bingley one night at Netherfield Park. On a couple of occasions, we ended up inebriated in his study after she had retired. On one occasion, I seem to remember I removed my neckcloth and my top buttons were undone because I was so hot. I thought it was a dream, but I remember someone's hand running the length of the scar.

"She is a jealous woman, darling. She has tried to entrap me for many years, but I would not have her. Surely, if she was so easy to take, do you not think I would have by now. The woman positively repulses me. She has no amiable attributes and nothing to entice a gentleman. I only put up with her behaviour for her brother's sake. She may be marginally attractive on the outside, but her soul is bad and her character ugly. Do you think I could tie myself to someone like that?" Elizabeth did not look up to meet his eyes but just shook her head once more. "I told you I did not have a mistress. Why did you doubt me over some words from this… this woman! I wish I could take you away this very day, away from all this."

"We could run to Gretna," Elizabeth reluctantly teased.

"What?" he chuckled, "And have your uncle come after me. I know he has approved and so has your late father in his papers, but I will do the honourable thing and marry you in the presence of our family and friends. Elizabeth, I will ensure Miss Bingley pays for this. Do not think she will evade retribution."

"What will you do?" she gasped,

"I do not wish to make a scene. That will be scandalous for all parties concerned. My hopes for her suffering will be of a longer duration than just confronting her. I also have to consider Wickham, for he is forming an attachment to her. To be honest, if he can handle her, then why shouldn't he take her as a wife. He has confided in me that he wishes to court her with a view to marriage."

"But that would mean if they were to marry she would be at Pemberley!" she exclaimed.

"Do not fret. Wickham has already asked to move to Bath on several occasions, and the last was with the notion of having Miss Bingley as his wife. I agreed to buy him the property as a wedding gift if he was to marry her."

"So, if she marries him, she will be out of our lives? But there will still be the odd visit."

"I doubt there will be many, as Wickham seldom travels that sort of distance. Once she is his wife, she will not be able to defy her husband as she does her brother. A husband and wife's relationship is much different to that of siblings. She will have to do whatever Wickham says."

"Do you expect the same from me?" Elizabeth's voice quietened at the thought of being suppressed into an obedient wife.

"No, you are your own person. I will never limit or hinder you in what you want to do or say. I will never force you to do something you do not wish to… Well, not unless it is dangerous and it will do you harm. I cannot imagine allowing you to ride a horse backwards, blindfolded and in the snow," he chuckled.

" _Oh! You mean to say you did not demand that I come out of my room. It was my choice?"_ A playful look shone upon her face.

"That was different, and it was for your own good. How could I leave you in such a state overnight? Now, when you see Miss Bingley, act as though nothing has happened. I will not say anything, so she will think the letter did not reach its destination and cause its intended repercussions. I can even ask your aunt to visit and tell her that she intercepted the note before you became aware of its existence.

"I can encourage Mr Wickham in his attempts to woo Miss Bingley. I will, however, warn him of her character and show him the note, as he has a right to know. He can then make up his own mind.

"But she will run circles around him if they were to marry. Do you think that is fair to him?"

"Although his body may not be strong, his mind is, and he will have none of her nonsense if they were to wed. He may seem amiable and pleasant for most of the time, but if there is a need, he can be rather formidable; he is no fool. Bingley has also shown his acceptance of Wickham's advances to his sister. He has let it be known that he will increase her dowry if an offer is attainable, so it is likely that this will come about. We just have to encourage it and not upset anyone with today's events."

"I will try, but do not leave me alone with her, for she will surely say something if the opportunity arises."

"You will not be left with her. I doubt you will need to see each other often before the wedding. I will attempt to keep you apart, and maybe I can visit here with Georgie more often as she is frequently at Darcy house visiting Wickham."

"This seems very underhand. Do you not feel guilty about doing all this plotting?" Elizabeth asked, worried that what he had planned was not a gentlemanly thing to do.

"To be honest, I did try to tell her politely several times over the past four years. I ignored her advances and in some cases, backed off from her close proximity. Bingley has also told her to curb her behaviour, but she will not heed to my or her brother's call and has now gone too far. This is now my retaliation with the same scheming that she has employed time and time again. How can I feel guilty about that?"

It was agreed that Mrs Gardiner would approach Caroline and demand that she refrain from any further attempts to part the couple and to use any threats she needed to force the woman to oblige.


	15. Her Father's Spirit

-0-

Caroline was whiling away the hours in the music room when Mrs Gardiner was announced. "Ah! If it is not Miss Eliza's dear aunt, what can I do for you on such a fine day as this?" she gloated. She knew the letter would have reached its desired destination and was hoping for some news. Maybe she had come to announce the match had been annulled.

Mrs Gardiner held up the vicious message. "I must say that I did not expect such nonsense from a fine creature such as yourself. If you need to degrade your reputation, I would appreciate it if you would refrain from involving my niece and her intended."

"But they are not lies, madam. I can assure you that we are lovers and will continue to be so, regardless of whether Miss Eliza becomes the next Mrs Darcy, or not," Caroline quipped. "There is no room for her in his heart, as he loves me." Her last words were said with a cock of the head, and Mrs Gardiner was faced with a pair of rather large nostrils flaring in her direction. She grimaced.

"You are fooling yourself, young woman… and I say _woman_ as I doubt anyone would consider you a lady after this attempt at parting two people who were destined to be together. I doubt Mr Darcy would ever look at you in that way; he has not faltered with his attentions to my niece since their reacquaintance, and it is obvious what this is all about."

"That is all an act for he does desire me, most ardently."

"Your appetence has driven you to madness. You are a fool, madam, if you think such a man as Mr Darcy, with high morals and an untainted reputation in society, would lower himself to become entangled with a tradesman's daughter!"

"How dare you! I am a genteel bred lady."

"I doubt that," Mrs Gardiner huffed. "It is well known that your family owns a cotton mill in Scarborough which made enough money to put you through a decent education and that your brother has inherited the fortune from your father's work. You are of first-generation gentry!" Miss Bingley flinched at her words. "Do not get me wrong, I do not begrudge those who work in trade, for my husband is a man who makes his living in such a way, and while I do not wish to boast, he makes more per annum than your brother's dividends. To breathe conceit and arrogance at every turn is not becoming of a la… woman."

"I _am_ a lady!"

" _Oh! Have you just been elevated to nobility by Royal Decree?"_ Miss Bingley looked down her nose again at the matron's remark as she tilted her head back. " _Miss Bingley, I do not know if anyone has mentioned this to you, but that expression is rather repugnant. It does not become you one jot._ _"_

"How dare you come into my house-"

" _Oh, I thought this was Mr Hurst's house."_

"Out! I will not have you come here and talk to me in this manner. You are dead to me!" Caroline stated as she turned her back on the visitor. Mrs Gardiner laughed at such a show of stupidity. Did she think that her blatant refusal to acknowledge her presence was going to ruffle her feathers?

"Good. Now I think I have said all that I cared to say," she stated to Miss Bingley's back. "Oh! No, I did not. Please note that neither Miss Bennet or Mr Darcy is aware of your malicious lies, for I intercepted the note before it had reached my niece. It would do you well, Miss Bingley, not to pursue this silly idea of yours, not unless you care for your brother, whom I may remind you holds your purse strings, to discover how underhand you have been. Good day, Miss Bingley." And with that, Mrs Gardiner left.

Caroline was now determined more than ever to encourage Wickham into proposing. Once they had decamped to Pemberley, she would recommence her campaign in the absence of interfering relations. _He will give in eventually,_ she thought.

* * *

It was early evening when Darcy asked to speak privately with Wickham; Georgiana was in her rooms dressing for dinner, so thought this was an ideal time to enlighten his friend of what had occurred without a curious sister eavesdropping on their conversation. Mrs Gardiner had called at Darcy house on her return to Gracechurch Street, explaining that the woman did not feel a smattering of remorse on what she had done and denied the content of her message as lies. The events of the day did not sit well with the master, and even though he wished to push the whole situation behind him, he knew he had to disclose everything.

"Darcy?" Wickham enquired as he came into the library.

"Come in, Wickham. I need to talk to you privately," Darcy stated as he beckoned his friend to take a seat. "I need to bring to your attention something that occurred today; something concerning Miss Bingley."

"Oh, the lovely Caroline," he sighed, "I am sure I will be the happiest of men if she accepts me."

"So you are planning on offering her marriage?" Darcy asked, concerned at what his friend was doing.

"Yes. I will offer eventually, she has not let it go unnoticed that she enjoys my company exceedingly and we have been inseparable since our acquaintance."

"Wickham. Miss Bingley wrote a most dreadful note to Elizabeth today, which caused us both great upset, especially Elizabeth as you can imagine." He watched as Wickham's expression showed some confusion. "She insinuated that I was keeping her as my mistress and that I would not give her up after the wedding. I had to tell you, to let you know what she had done, for I could not watch you continue in ignorance.

"If you still wish to pursue her, then I will not stand in your way. You have the choice of whether to continue with courting her or end your attentions before it is too late. If you decide to continue, I am happy to allow you to stay in Darcy House after Elizabeth and I depart, but if you feel you want to cut this… pursuit short, then you may travel back to Pemberley as previously discussed."

Darcy proceeded to hand Wickham Caroline's letter which Mrs Gardiner had left; the men sat in silence as Wickham read the note to its end. He sat there pondering on his feelings, and he knew that he had already fallen for her. "I still want her, even if the marriage will be one of unrequited love. Once she is my wife, she will not be permitted to carry on acting like this. If you agree, we could move to Bath, and she will be out of your way."

"I know that she is not an ideal choice, but if you were to take her away, she might soften and I will not be a constant distraction to her. I know you would be able to control her; she will not defy you once she understands her new position in life. As her husband, she will do well to not go against you like she has her brother. Bingley has been far too soft and obliging to his sister's behaviour, and it has turned her into a prima donna, seeing nothing wrong with the petulance she shows towards others."

"She will not misbehave," Wickham resounded. "I am sure a stop to her allowance would keep her in check, and an additional amount for good behaviour will go far. If that fails, she will feel my wrath. I know I should not treat a woman whom I love in such a way, but I will not be made to look a fool. If she thinks she can marry me and still pursue you, she will realise that I will not be a dolt to her ways like her brother. In declaring her vows to me, she will be pledging obedience, and I will be most harsh on her if she disobeys… How is Miss Bennet? I hope she is not too distressed."

"Not now, but it did cause great distress earlier. Mrs Gardiner intervened and confronted Miss Bingley, who of course has denied her words as lies. She still insists that we are lovers. Miss Bingley has been led to believe that Elizabeth did not see the note and that only Mrs Gardiner has read it, so we are to play ignorant to the whole fiasco."

"Mm? Maybe I need to distract Miss Bingley from you and hopefully hasten my own marriage. I will call upon her at the Hurst's residence tomorrow."

* * *

Wickham had called the following morning in the hopes of discovering Miss Bingley's mode in the aftermath of recent events; would she withdraw from his attentions or did the incident not even bludgeon a change in her character. "Miss Bingley, would you care to join me for a carriage ride this morning? Darcy has offered the use of the Landau if you care to join me."

"I would love to," she purred, "for I have not been in a Landau for some time. I love the breeze on my face that you get with open carriages," she cooed. _I thought as much, not even showing an ounce of contrition for her disgraceful actions._

As they crossed Hyde park, Caroline thought on how her life would be like living at Pemberley. "So, your cottage in Derbyshire… Is it very close to the main house?" she asked.

Wickham inwardly grimaced as he thought of her words. She was attempting to decipher the distance it would take to get to Darcy. _Does she care to know how many steps from the front door to his bedchambers?_ There were over thirty miles between Bath and Pemberley, and without the use of his carriage, she would have great difficulty in her pursuits. "It is but a stone's throw away. If you look out of the parlour window, you can clearly see the front entrance."

"And how have I not seen you there? We visited at Pemberley two years ago for a fortnight complete. You were not party to any of the dinners."

"Ah! Yes, the one occasion you were staying there, I was elsewhere. I had gone to London to see a top surgeon; another to add to the growing list of incompetent physicians that I have seen since childhood. None of them can help me in my plight without causing more pain."

"But surely you would take any help that is on offer?"

"Not when they all wish to break my bones again. There is also a chance things would go horribly wrong. There is no guarantee that I will be fixed and every chance that it will make matters worse. I can get around indoors on my sticks, so am resigned that this is how it will be."

"But what of a better life. Taking a wife, maybe? Do you not wish to settle down?" she asked. Was she alluding to her interest in sharing her life with him? He pondered on the thought of proposing that instant but remembered Darcy's words. Knowing of what had occurred, he was determined to take things with less haste. He smiled, took her hand and patted the back of it without giving her an answer.

* * *

Knowing that Caroline and Wickham had gone out for the day, Darcy called in on Bingley to explain what his sister had done. "Good Lord! I cannot believe she would do such a thing. This behaviour will not be tolerated. She has plagued my life with her sharp tongue, discouraging the ladies which I wished to pursue in the hopes to settle down, but I will not stand for this! I will talk to her."

"No! Please do not. I do not wish to hinder any chance Wickham has. He is already hoping to marry your sister, but he has to woo her first and ensure that his own feelings are steadfast. He has only known her for a short time, but his affections are increasing as they are very rarely out of each other's company. He is aware of what has happened and will continue with caution." Darcy did not wish to state that Wickham and his bride would be moving to a new location. It was not his place to break the news, and it may even curtail Bingley's support for the marriage if he knew his sister would be taken away.

"I know Wickham will look after her," Darcy explained. "He is a gentle man and although not of the likes of you or I, will care for her whatever way he can. He has a kind heart, and no one should deny him of his happiness… I do not think you realise that he is also quite dominant when he wants to be, Bingley. He will not allow your sister to disrespect another or take a course of action, which may prove detrimental." Darcy eyed Bingley to see his reaction.

"As in attempting to seduce you?" Bingley stated.

"Yes, but not only that. To try and break up a union," he pointed decidedly at the missive on his desk.

"So, the plan is for Wickham to woo Caroline with a view to marriage?" Darcy nodded. "Well, she is now getting to an age where no man will have her and I have to think about increasing her dowry. Maybe another five thousand on top of what she already has will bring Wickham's question forward."

Darcy laughed at his friend's decision. _"I suppose you do not care to support your spinster sister when she is of the age of five and fifty, and you are still chasing pretty ladies with your walking stick._ I dare say you wish to have your own life to lead and with Miss Bingley married, that will allow you to pursue a more permanent solution to your own needs."

* * *

"Fitzwilliam!" Elizabeth cried out from the top landing. "Is that you?" Darcy was to dine at Gracechurch Street.

"Yes, it is I," he called back as he gave his top hat and cane to the footman.

As Elizabeth came down the stairs, Darcy was momentarily benumbed at what she was wearing. "You are not in black," he finally stated.

"No. It is only for tonight as it would have been father's birthday and each year he asked me to wear lavender on his special day. I think he mentioned mama taking a liking to the colour and wore it often.

"It's one of aunt's dresses, and I am surprised it fits me. She is so much smaller than I, but it seems as though I have lost more weight than I realised."

"Double serving tonight, then… Fill those womanly curves out again," Darcy smirked.

"Mr Darcy!"

"Yes, Miss Bennet?" he responded playfully; his eyes were shining with playful mirth. "I only say it in the hopes you will take heed as there will be more to grab onto," he chuckled. Elizabeth blushed.

"I will have none of that, sir. You are not married yet," Mr Gardiner bid lightheartedly, as he followed his niece down the stairs. "You make good timing, Mr Darcy, dinner is ready." Darcy offered Elizabeth his arm and escorted her into the dining room.

After the meal, the party moved to the music room. Darcy remembered what was burning a hole in his pocket, so in removing the small jewellery box, he handed it to Elizabeth. "What is it?"

"Open it, and you will find out. I hope it is to your liking."

As Elizabeth opened the box, she saw the brooch. "Oh, Fitzwilliam. You have gifted me a brooch! Is it onyx?" she questioned.

"It is a black star sapphire. It can also be worn on a chain as a pendant, see… the back has a special fastening that also allows it to hang from a chain. I have the remainder of the set, which I will gift you on our wedding day. I would like you to wear it as a necklace when you take your vows." Elizabeth smiled and tried to pin it on her dress. "First, you must go over to the window and let the light hit the stone; then you will see something special."

Elizabeth did not make it as far as the window when she let out a cry. "It has a star in the centre. Oh! It is moving around!" she laughed. "But how did it get there?" She moved the jewel around in the light and noticed the diamonds, which encircled the larger stone. "What a splendid piece, but it must have cost a fortune."

"We will have none of that; do not concern yourself with the expense. It is a trifle pittance." He came up beside her and took the brooch from her hands. As they peered down at the stone, Darcy showed that it was the light that had formed the star, for when he took it out of the sun, the starburst disappeared.

"It is magic!" she gleamed.

"It is science."

"It is father's spirit!" she smiled nonchalantly. "Thank you. It is beautiful. I think I will always wear this, as I feel somehow that I will have father close to me."

After the excitement of the gift, Elizabeth sat down at the pianoforte. Darcy had requested that she entertain them on the instrument, but only if he was allowed to assist with the sheet music. "You may sit next to me, Mr Darcy," she said as she patted the duet piano stool. They both looked at each other, knowing the other's thoughts, remembering the last time they sat on the same stool in that room. He had taken such delicious liberties with her, and she allowed him. Darcy's excitement at the close proximity stirred his thoughts, but he had to quell his growing ardour before the bunchage had formed. However, it was to no avail, for within a few minutes he had moved forward to turn the page which promoted Elizabeth to slightly lean into him and so allowing their bodies to make contact. This, coupled with his arm secretly wrapped around her waist, made for a few fudged notes and a flushed complexion upon the lady's cheeks.

As the piece concluded, Mrs Gardiner requested to play. "Let me play a waltz, Elizabeth. I am sure you would like to take a turn about the room with Mr Darcy?"

Two sets of astounded eyes met, surprised at Mrs Gardiner's suggestion. "But aunt, you do realise that it is not a dance to be taken lightly. What will uncle think?"

"Uncle thinks that it is a good idea. If your aunt were not to play, I would be delighted to take a turn about the room myself," he interrupted.

"Does any of your staff know how to play the instrument?" Darcy asked, knowing that Gladstone played very well, so assumed other members of service might be able to oblige.

"Yes, my maid. I taught her when we first married, and she has use of an old clavichord in her room." Mrs Gardiner said, "I will fetch her from the servants quarters."

Mrs Fellows did indeed play and very well at that. The couples danced around the room, taking care to give each other space. However, Darcy insisted upon pulling Elizabeth closer to him than needed in a desire for contact. "Fitzwilliam. Please stay at a distance, I beg of you," she whispered.

"If you insist, although I do not wish to."

"Please be serious. If my uncle should see us, he will have no issues in escorting you off the premises, and we will not be able to meet until our wedding day."

"Fine… I will behave, even though I feel like being an imp," he smiled, but moved away from her and so allowing the air to move between them.

The waltz was enjoyed by all. Even Elizabeth, after her initial concern, enjoyed being swept around the room. But all too soon the piece had come to its end.

"I forgot to tell you," she remembered as she sat on the settee. "I had a letter from Charlotte Lucas this morning. You will never believe what she has gone and done," Elizabeth said in a near satirical tone. "You will not, so I will tell you. Charlotte is to marry Mr Collins."

"I did overhear talk. Bingley had news from Meryton. Apparently, there is a possibility Mr Collins has fathered yet another child by one of his maids. The man is a cad and veiled his dishonest character under a clergyman's preaching bands."

"I hope it is not Betsy!" Elizabeth gasped. "Fitzwilliam. I need to tell you that he tried to hire me as a maid before I came to London. His wandering eyes made me feel ill," she physically shivered.

"What! He looked upon you in an ungentlemanly manner?… Mr Gardiner, was you aware of this?"

"What is that, Mr Darcy?" he asked as he came to sit by his wife.

"Collins! He has caused a maid to be with child. Elizabeth just told me that before she came to London, he propositioned her!"

"Is this true?" Mr Gardiner said as he stood to move towards his niece.

"Yes. He wanted me as a maid, saying he needed more servants. The look he gave me was in such a way that my skin turned cold. That is when I immediately left Longbourn. It took me an hour to pack my things, and I was out the door. I was not going to stay a night in that house with him… I need to write to Charlotte to warn her, for she cannot know his reputation if she wishes to marry him!"

"So long as you do not cause an issue. Just tell your friend that you are concerned about her union with the man and explain your reasons. Do not tell her that she cannot marry him, for it is her choice after all and she will make up her mind once she has read your words," Mr Gardiner suggested.

As the night drew to a close, the older couple bid Mr Darcy a good night and returned to the parlour, which allowed Elizabeth and Darcy some moments alone. "I love the brooch, Fitzwilliam. I will always treasure it… Thank you."

"I am glad you do. I did look at the Darcy jewels, but felt this moment deserved a new piece for it is the beginning of our lives together."

Darcy requested Elizabeth's company in the park. It was agreed that she and her aunt would meet him by the lake in St James Park at nine in the morning and they would partake of refreshments at Farrances of Charing Cross.

* * *

"Oh, aunt. They do sorbet here!" Elizabeth exclaimed with enthusiasm as she glanced at the next table, who had already received their dishes.

"I take it you care for the same, but would madam care for Tipsy cake instead?"

Elizabeth's eyes lit up, for she had heard of it, though never tried it. "Does it make you inebriated?" she giggled.

"I doubt it," responded Darcy.

"Aunt, will you have some?" Elizabeth asked. "And if it is to die for, then we will just have to come back here every day until we leave."

 _"Now, would you care for hot chocolate with that rather large portion of liquor, madam?"_ Darcy enquired in mock jest.

"Can one not get excited about food. You told me I had to expand my waist. No better place to start… Just so long as I do not burst out of my stays."

"Heaven forbid if that happens," Darcy murmured under his breath so that their chaperone did not hear.

Elizabeth focused on Mr Darcy's stretched and contorted lips which formed a rather humorous simper, but it did not last for she caught sight of something at the corner of her eye. _Oh, no! Miss Bingley!_

"Mr Darcy! How wonderful to see you here." Darcy flinched at the harshness of the woman's voice and his face instantly relaxed; gone was his pleasure only to be replaced with disdain. He was sure that if they were nearer the windows, the glass would have shattered into a million pieces. Turning towards her, he fabricated a pleasing expression as much as he could.

As she came closer, Darcy stood to greet the woman, but both Mrs Gardiner and Elizabeth chose to remain seated. "Miss Bingley, what a surprise to see you here. Are you not out with Mr Wickham? I thought you were going to take a ride in the Landau again."

"We were, but we decided to stop for a bite to eat. Mr Wickham is sitting over there," she explained as she flicked her fingers over her shoulder in an aloof manner. Darcy peered over to see Wickham waving his hand in the air to get his attention. "Shall I beckon him over and we can sit together?" Miss Bingley enquired.

"I doubt there will be room. This table will sit no more than four. Maybe you should return to Wickham, as he seems rather excluded at the moment," Darcy suggested, wishing the woman away. He was surprised that she had not sat down uninvited and left him sitting there on his own.

"I daresay he is. Poor thing had a struggle getting to his seat, so many people here today it is impossible to breathe. I am sure they try to squash as many that will fit. I feel it would have been wiser to have gone to Gunter's. At least they have a better seating plan."

"Maybe you should go now," Elizabeth quietly mumbled.

"Miss Eliza. I did not see you there. I have not seen you since we dined at Darcy house. I hope you are well?" she purred with a spurious smile.

Darcy knew that Elizabeth felt uneasy at the proximity to Caroline Bingley, for her body had physically stiffened. He grabbed her hand which was resting on the seat between them and gave it a light squeeze; Elizabeth's fingers curled around his, and there she found some comfort and the strength to reply. "Very well, I thank you. Mr Darcy has been paying particular attention to me all morning, and I feel rather spoilt."

"And you will be my number one priority for eternity, Miss Bennet," Darcy added as he brought her hand to his lips and placed a kiss upon her fingers.

After a few awkward moments, Caroline knew that she had little hope of breaking the scandalous pair up. _How dare he show such public affection in front of me!_ She knew that Wickham now was her only chance. She bid them a good day and returned to her companion.

"Good, I thought she would never go," Mrs Gardiner stated in a low voice.

"I second that, aunt."

* * *

"I did not expect Darcy to be here. I thought he was in the park," Wickham said when Caroline returned to him.

"I believe that he is treating Miss Eliza to something sweet. I doubt she has had much chance to enjoy such an establishment as this."

"Ouch! Where did that come from?" Wickham stated. "I do not particularly appreciate your tone."

"But it is true. She was only a country squire's daughter who never ventured into town; not even for the season. He is dead now, so she does not even have the privilege of being a gentleman's daughter anymore."

"I do not think that her father dying reduces her circumstances. Is your father not dead?"

"Yes, but that is different," she said with unease.

"How so?"

"My brother inherited that position, he is a gentleman, and I am a gentleman's sister. Miss Eliza has no one… _Well, she has her aunt and uncle who are in trade._ _"_

"That is very unladylike, Miss Bingley. It does not suit you one iota," Wickham rebuked.

Caroline determined from his expression that she had upset him with her words. Starting to worry that she had pushed her scathing too far, she abandoned her acrimony in favour of a more demure visage. "Ignore me, Mr Wickham. I meant no harm. But I do believe that a woman's status in life is decidedly rocky. A gentleman can reach his status and know that more often than not it will not waver until he draws his last breath. A woman's life is such that she can be thrown into the hedgerows at any time. I believe Miss Eliza found herself in such a position of late and that is such a shame."

"Very well, that will do for now," Wickham stated firmly.

* * *

"Do you think Mr Wickham will be able to handle Miss Bingley?" Elizabeth asked after her study of the couple and Caroline's flushed complexion as the twain continued to discuss in a rather heated manner.

"I believe so. It will certainly not be Wickham who will be disappointed in their marriage. He will be able to command her obedience. There will be a greater need for hired help to keep his wife happy, that I know."

"Will you help in that regard?"

"Most probably. I cannot see Mrs Peters scurrying about in a fluster over Mrs Wickham when her charge is to assist Mr Wickham. She is a nurse, not an abigail."

"Fitzwilliam… Do you think it would be possible for the servants from Longbourn to take up service at Pemberley? I left them behind, and I do not think any of them will be employed by Mr Collins for very long. Either he will dismiss them without a reference or attempt to seduce Betsy. I am worried."

"I am sure we can do with more staff now that we will be at Pemberley for a greater share of the year."

"Thank you, Fitzwilliam, for your kind generosity. Although they are servants who were in my father's employment, I had over the years become rather fond of them."

"I will write to Mr Hill today so that I can put the proposal forward. Hopefully, he will take up the offer."

The rest of the afternoon was spent at Farrances, where Elizabeth took her delight in not one, but two pieces of Tipsy cake.


	16. I Now Pronounce You Man And Wife

-0-

It was the evening before the wedding and Darcy was deep in thought while sitting in the gardens at his townhouse. He had left his guests to their own entertainment, in order to seek solitude after dinner and had taken to sitting on one of the wooden benches at the bottom of the garden. He sat there in relative quietness, pondering on how his life would be after he had married. "To fall asleep and wake up next to a warm, soft body, such bliss," he sighed to himself.

"Indeed cousin, that must be a wonderful experience," Richard agreed as he approached him from behind. "I do apologise. I have startled you out of your private musings. Do you wish for me to leave and return to Wickham's and Georgie's company?"

"No, stay and take a seat, Richard. I was just thinking of how it will be without any restrictions that society brings and I can finally have a woman next to me in my bed."

"You could have before with little scandal, although it would not have been in your bed, exactly. You know our positions in life allows us the luxury of a mistress."

"You know how I abhor such behaviour. If one is to connect themselves with another in such a way, there should be at least some sort of attachment beyond monetary gain on her part and easing of urges on his."

"That did not refrain you from the delights of Miss Martin," Richard laughed.

"Miss Martin was… is a professional. I was referring to the women in society who take advantage of a man's needs in a more underhand way. The fluttering of lashes in order to gain an insanely expensive gift and the pouting that comes when such gifts do not materialise. I know Miss Martin takes a keen interest in some men and their weaknesses, but I pride myself on the ability to only go to her a couple of times a year, and I do not succumb to her womanly ways beyond the necessity of a release. That does not make her a mistress."

"No, it makes her a whore." Darcy winced at his cousin's use of words. "Well, she is, and you cannot deny that you have taken delight in the sport of whoring."

"I only visited her in order to curb my frustrations and not for pleasure; there is a difference."

"I suppose there is. You treat her as a quenching wench rather than a sporting pleasure."

"Precisely."

"And what of love? Do you find you have that now?" Richard smirked. He watched Darcy gaze into space, not focusing on anything but his thoughts.

"I have a great fondness for Miss Bennet. I esteem her and will treat her with kindness and reverence. She will be the mother of my children and Pemberley's mistress; that will earn her my respect and gratitude."

Darcy continued to stare into space with the same myopic glare as his words fell from his lips, giving him a positively purblind appearance.

 _Gratitude? Does he really believe his own words?_ Richard pondered. He knew his cousin had fallen in love and the fool did not even realise it. "And she will also be your _lover_ ," the Viscount voiced as he witnessed Darcy's silence. The rosiness to his complexion did not go unnoticed in the dim light of the evening. "Do you think you will grow to love her?"

"I have every chance of that happening as I would with any other woman."

"But you have not even had your head turned by another. Why is Miss Bennet so different? Is it because she was forced upon you?" Richard was hoping for a reaction that would confirm Darcy's true feelings. "If she had not been for you, I would certainly have made my play for such a delightful creature, and if she would not have me, I would have pursued her until she gave in."

"Do not talk about her in such a way. She is a gentlewoman, not a whore."

"Oh, I did not intend to treat her as such. Mrs Elizabeth Fitzwilliam, or should I say Lady Matlock; it has a rather nice ring to it, do you not think? With her dark, sensual looks and my light complexion, we could have ended up with a menagerie of sprogs. What a delight it would have been to create all those offspring."

"That is enough!" Darcy stood abruptly. His hands clenched into fists at his side, and his breath was seething between his teeth.

Richard remained seated, happy with the outcome of his little taunt. "Yes, Darcy, I believe so," he smiled. Yes, he was in love with his future wife. Richard had already observed the couple with each other during previous evenings, and although Miss Bennet's admiration could not be denied, a strong attachment such as love could not be established. It was only that the Viscount knew how his cousin was in temperament, that he was able to decipher his sincere devotion to the lady.

"Mother and father liked Miss Bennet very much. They told me last night after the dinner party that they approved of the match," Richard said hoping that the change in conversation would calm Darcy, which to his relief it did.

"I did not think they would not. Elizabeth was afraid they would not like her, but after a full hour she seemed to relax."

"They are not bad people. I think the titles send folk into a panic more than their presence. Once they realise Lord and Lady Matlock are far from being self-important but quite palatable, the majority settle down. Elizabeth was no different in her reaction."

"I suppose neither of us has had to concern ourselves with first impressions."

"No, but my parents' first impression of the lady was quite pleasing. Father thought she a spritely little thing with a zealous nature and mother wanted to take her under her wing. I am sure she will approach you at some point offering sponsorship for Miss Bennet's curtsy. She is already thinking about having their names listed with the Lord Chamberlain's office so that she can receive the invites for the next presentation as soon as can be."

"I do not know if she will want that."

"But she must. It is the done thing!"

"Is it? I can see no reason why she should. She will already have been married, and the likelihood is that she will be with child. I do not want my wife, who may be in a delicate state, parading around all day in a monstrosity of a dress, which she can barely stay upright in."

"Those are rather hilarious. I do not know why Queen Charlotte still insists on those outdated gowns and all those feathers! I remember aunt Catherine trying to get Anne to wear the required costume when she turned seventeen. The girl collapsed as she was having it fitted. Needless to say, she was not presented."

"And aunt wanted Anne as my wife. She probably would have been dead within two years of our marriage had my father changed his mind and agreed with her. Childbirth has no place for the weakened, and she would have succumbed to her lot."

"You would probably not have been able to lay with her. She has been so sickly since childhood and even when she was not unwell she would not have been strong enough to swell with child to completion. Do you think you will ever visit Rosings now you will be off the market?"

"Doubtful. Aunt Catherine has not been part of my life, so why should I reacquaint myself with that section of the family."

"I suppose. It will also bring back aunt's sourness as she still vexes over your father's decision, but since his passing, it has reduced somewhat. To have a Darcy back in her family circle will undoubtedly recommence her madness, although once she hears you are married, she may start up again anyway and I am due to visit her in a couple of months. Wonderful!"

"You can refuse."

"Who will overlook the running of her estate. She has no one, and her steward is only just coping with the funds I can persuade her to release. She continues to spend large sums of money on the house and replaces things that do not need renewing. She has just had a new chimney-piece costing more than eight hundred pounds installed, and that money could have been used to renovate several small properties on her estate."

"She will only have her own self to blame when she is declared bankrupt."

"But if she and Anne both die, I will be the one to inherit the problem. They have both left wills naming me as the sole benefactor with the surviving de Burgh having rights for life. I do not want a house which has been mortgaged up to the hilt. I will have the trouble of selling the damn thing and not see a penny for it."

"Ha! That is due to all the hard work you do helping with estate matters."

"I dare say. _Maybe I should lease it to Wickham when I come into my inheritance and use YOUR money to pay back the loan,_ " he laughed when Darcy gave him a stern look. "So how is Wickham doing with the delightful Miss Bingley?"

"They have been inseparable these past few weeks. I know Wickham does not wish to return north without her and wants to propose before he goes. I do not know when it will be, but he did say it would be left to the last moment. That will allow him time to determine if he could live in an unequal marriage."

"Unequal? Oh, you mean the love that she does not reciprocate. If he has fallen in love with her, then he will risk his heart being hurt, but that is a chance he needs to take. I would not wish to venture there myself."

"He can only but try. I agreed to rent him a house in Bath, to begin with. Then after a few months, he will look for a home to purchase, and I will do the deal on his behalf."

"That is very generous of you, Darcy, such a monumental wedding gift."

"You know that it is a clause in father's Will. I do not begrudge him of a house, as it is of little expense. Father was so guilty over his accident, that he vowed that the Darcy family would take care of him until his last breath. I do not like the idea of him being so far away, but he will let me know if things do not go to plan and there are always visits."

"But you will be in the company of Miss Bingley then," Richard smirked.

"I will be in the company of Mrs Wickham. By that time she will be firmly under his grip. He will not put up with her silly antics, and she will do as she is told."

"And you believe Wickham will be able to control her?"

"Yes, I have seen a quite severe side to him. I think it was borne from his struggles after his fall. He was angry for quite some time after the doctor had told him the bad news that his condition was permanent. He did not blame anyone, especially Elizabeth, but I believe his anger was directed at God, for allowing such a cruel fate to befall him. He is amiable most of the time, but if you cross him, he is not one to be reckoned with; Miss Bingley will need to learn fast if she is to have a peaceful life. The worst she can do is run out the house, for he cannot follow her with any speed. She would have to return at some point, and if not, Wickham will send out his nurse to find her and remove her from wherever she is."

"How can Mrs Peters do that?"

"Mrs Peters is to be replaced by Mr Stanford, who is a rather large burly sort of chap. Wickham feels it is best to have a man about the house, rather than Mrs Peters once they are wed. It would not do for a harmonious marriage if there is a second lady in the house and from what he has told me very recently, his nurse helps him in other aspects of life." Darcy shook his head in disbelief when Wickham had enlightened him to his current situation at home. He did not realise that a man and a woman alone in a house for many years would somehow form at the very least, a pleasant past-time. Mrs Peters did not do this under any romantic illusion, for in her eyes it was more of a therapy for the man, as she found it calmed him. "Mrs Peters will return with the Pemberley servants and will attempt to seek employment in the village. She is not short of a guinea or two, as her husband had left her a tidy sum in his Will."

"She is a gentle lady?"

"No. Mrs Peters was the wife of the doctor who practised in Lambton, but he fell ill and died at the age of thirty. That was about seven years ago. She took on the role as Wickham's nurse after a year of mourning. I understand the establishment that her late husband owned was sold off to the present physician and she has since then invested the money. In fact, the late Mr Peters' father was the one who saw to Wickham after the accident."

"Well, she did Wickham a good service."

They sat there for a few moments longer, before Darcy shivered at the chill in the air, as the winds had picked up. "Come, let us go in, for it is getting cold. I do not think Miss Bennet would appreciate me sneezing in church tomorrow."

* * *

As Darcy was talking to his cousin in the garden, Elizabeth was sitting in the parlour at Gracechurch Street with her aunt.

"I do not know what to do? Charlotte has refused to come to the wedding," Elizabeth explained as she handed her aunt the letter.

 _-0-_  
 _Lucas Lodge_  
 _Hertfordshire_

 _Dear Lizzy,_

 _I had anticipated a letter from you this week. However, I did not expect it to contain such sentiments, especially those made towards my impending marriage to Mr Collins._

 _Why should you be surprised at his asking for my hand? Do you think it incredible that he should be able to procure a woman's good opinion, even though he has a less than pristine reputation? He has already promised me that when we are wed, there will be no more of his libidinous behaviour, as he says I will serve his needs perfectly well._

 _I know what you are thinking. How can I marry a man whose attentions are so directed towards others and sees me as nothing more than a vessel for his pleasure? I am not a romantic, as you know, and I only ask for a comfortable home and considering what Mr Collins can give me in the way of protection and situation in life, I am convinced that my chances of happiness with him are as plentiful as any other._

 _I have taken the liberty of showing Mr Collins your missive, and he has requested that I do not attend your wedding and I must agree with him. If you are unable to accept my choices in life, then why should I celebrate yours._

Your's, &c.

-0-

"Elizabeth. What did you expect? We all warned you to save your breath, but after seeing what you wrote, I knew that this would be the sort of response your friend would give."

"But I have known her all my life, aunt. I thought she would take my words to heart. I would not be surprised if Mr Collins instilled such ideas into her head. What a despicable man!"

"I suppose there are people in this world who have to accept the first proposal they receive, as it may well be the only one they will ever get. From what you have told me, Charlotte is already seven and twenty and virtually a spinster. I would imagine she had little choice in the matter. Not everyone can be fortunate in their match."

Charlotte was not in a position to pick and choose her husband. Being not far from thirty years of age, she was already a hindrance to her parents who were increasing with age, and having a daughter still living at home when they reached their sixth decade was a worry. The estate was such that it would pass to Charlotte's brother, but she could not assume he would support her for the duration of her life. She had to find her own position in the world and if that was with Mr Collins, then so be it. At least Elizabeth knew that Longbourn would be looked after properly. She did, however, make one promise to herself that if Charlotte should ever come to Pemberley, it would be an invitation for her alone. Mr Collins would not be welcome and would most certainly not be allowed to set foot on Pemberley soil.

"All I can say is that your friend is a grown woman and she will have to live with her decisions in life. You have tried to warn her, but she has decided not to listen. You cannot do more. Now tomorrow is your wedding day, and you must put all your thoughts into that now. Do not let this note and what it holds taint your special day."

"Yes, you are right. I should not think about such things."

* * *

The small intimate wedding was to be held at St Clements near Darcy House, followed by the wedding breakfast at the Gardiner's home in Gracechurch Street. There would only be a handful of guests as both Elizabeth and Darcy wished for a quiet occasion.

The Gardiner's home was a hub of activity. The seamstress had arrived to make the final adjustments to Elizabeth's dress, and the maid ensured the bride's hair was perfect.

"Ma'am, if you please. A special delivery has come for Miss Bennet," the maid stated as she handed Mrs Gardiner the package.

"What is it?" Elizabeth asked.

"It looks like it is from Mr Darcy," Mrs Gardiner stated as she handed the wrapped box to her niece.

Elizabeth quickly opened it and gasped her surprise. It was the necklace that accompanied the brooch. "Oh, aunt! It is magnificent." She stared at the diamond-encrusted choker in the box. "Do you have my brooch?" Mrs Gardiner handed the piece over, and Elizabeth made light work of fixing it to the space provided on the necklace, and Mrs Gardiner helped her to close the clasp around her neck.

"You look magnificent, Elizabeth."

So, Elizabeth Bennet became Mrs Fitzwilliam Darcy later that afternoon. When the vicar declared them man and wife, Elizabeth immediately felt her husband's fingertips upon her chin, urging her to acknowledge his closeness. He had shifted forward in the hopes of bestowing a soft lingering kiss on her pretty mouth; something he had been anticipating for weeks. His lips were but a hair's breadth away, waiting for her to accept his sweet buss. Her eyes fluttered shut as the warmth of his mouth came into contact with her own. Soft, gentle and with a hint of Anise comfits. Their first kiss had been everything that Darcy had hoped; finally discovering that the endearment had felt just as delightful as he had imagined it would. He sighed as he pulled away, but could not overlook Elizabeth's complexion. A cheeky smile tinged his otherwise affable expression when he witnessed her usual porcelain pureness transform into a rather rosy shade of pink. "My dear wife," he whispered through his smile so that only she could hear. They both absorbed themselves in the moment, as his hand caressed her cheek. Elizabeth's natural instinct was to incline into his palm and luxuriate in the tender attentions of her husband. It had only been a matter of moments, before their bubble had been decidedly burst by Wickham's deliberate loud cough, promptly followed by a snort from the Viscount and then a thud as the Earl's hand hit the back of his son's head.

" _Ouch!"_

* * *

As the afternoon drew into evening, the Darcy's bid their family farewell, before repairing for home. The newlyweds were greeted at the entrance of Darcy House by Gladstone, the butler. Before Elizabeth was able to take a step forward, Darcy picked her up into his arms. "Mr Darcy!" she cried in shock but started giggling when he nudged her into the air an inch or so, before catching her again in a more secure grip.

Darcy proclaimed that he was only protecting her from the Darcy demons, otherwise, they may attempt to grab at her ankles and whisk her away. "It would never do to lose you just before…" both blushed at his awkward response. "Yes… Well…" his agitation was even more considerable, but Elizabeth was able to articulate her continuation of their debate on the merits of being carried over the threshold.

"I am sure it would not, but I think you may safely put me down. I doubt there are ghosts and ghouls under the steps to your front door."

"But it is tradition, Mrs Darcy."

"Do you believe in such hocus-pocus?"

"No, but allow me this indulgence."

As they entered the house, Elizabeth turned to see a throng of servants, who had lined each side of the vestibule. Her warm blush increased in intensity to a heat that almost required her fan. "Mr Darcy, I believe you may put me down now. I am almost certain that I am now safely secured within the boundaries of your home."

"Our home," he professed proudly, as he returned her to the floor.

Elizabeth looked around and saw many faces all staring back at her with joyous smiles. An expression so contagious that she found herself mirroring their countenance

Mr Darcy was eager to start his marriage but took time to introduce every footman, maid and kitchen hand. Elizabeth spent several minutes with each, hoping that she would remember their names and apologise if she did not. After some duration, the staff were dismissed to attend to their duties. "I counted at least a dozen and a half. I am surprised of so many servants here in town; it did not seem that many when I visited."

"You will be even more surprised when we head north, for there are tenfold as many at Pemberley."

As they made their way to the third floor, Elizabeth felt fretfulness manifest. She knew where they were heading and even though she had anticipated this first time alone with her husband for many days, if not weeks, she could not stop the nerves from rising. She knew that at nine o'clock in the evening, he did not wish to dine or make a tour of the house. He wanted to bed her. When they reached her door, he escorted Elizabeth into her rooms. "These are the mistresses set of rooms, darling." _Darling? Oh!_ She almost swooned.

"It is lovely. Did you have it recently redecorated?" Elizabeth asked after a moment of calming herself.

"No. It was done about five years ago, not long after Papa had passed away. You may wish to alter it to your liking. I will leave the choice to you."

" _So… Bright orange and blue stripes on the walls with bright green drapes and a puce counterpane will be acceptable,"_ she teased.

"Elizabeth!" She spun around, fearing his chastisement at a silly notion, but was joyfully greeted by a smile so broad that it radiated from ear to ear.

"I was only making humour. My taste, I hope, is much more subtle. I do not wish to alter it just yet, Fitzwilliam. Maybe when we next come to town, I will consider new colours. Allow me to get accustomed to being your wife first." She came forward and courageously placed her hands upon his chest. Darcy inhaled sharply at her touch, while his eyes were drawn to hers with such intensity that he forgot to breathe out after filling his lungs. "I want to be a good wife, Fitzwilliam. I do not wish our union to be purely based on my ability to bear children alone, nor do I wish to be one of those wives, who only tolerate coital intimacies with her husband to beget an heir. I hope our time together would mean something more than procreation, but something that we will both enjoy immensely in order to strengthen our affinity."

"I… I think I can agree t… to that," he stuttered. "How long do you th… think you will need… before we start this… strengthening process."

"An hour, perhaps?" she managed to say with a calm, steady voice, even though she was trembling within.

"I will come to you in an hour, Elizabeth," he gulped.

After kissing her hand, he made a hasty retreat to his rooms, leaving behind an equally flustered wife.


	17. Becoming Mrs Darcy

-0-

As soon as Darcy retreated to his bedchambers, his pace quickened to a breakneck dash which did not surprise his valet one jot. Roger had been witness to his master's solitary impassioned nights for the previous two months, and knew that his furious clip was the consequence of his desire overpowering his self-control. Even Roger had to stifle his levity, while observing his master's increased impatience, until Darcy's governance snapped in the ripping of a perfectly good lawn shirt from his back in a fierce manner. The servant picked up the shredded garment knowing that it was beyond repair and placed it in the dressing room. "Do you wish for me to shave you this evening, sir?"

"No!" then Darcy thought about how his day-old bristles would feel on Elizabeth's delicate skin. "Yes, but only around my mouth." Roger stifled his reaction in the hopes of not upsetting his employer with a twitter that was so desperate to spill. Darcy sat back, but would not keep still, but as soon as the blade made contact with his skin, he calmed knowing it would never do for his lips to be so unceremoniously severed from his face.

In a moment of either clarity or stupidity, Darcy fixed on the idea of rejecting his nightshirt, when offered. Only dressed in his robe, he sat back in the chair and huffed out his annoyance that only twenty minutes had passed. "Sir, it may do you well to take some brandy. Would you wish me to fetch you a glass?" Darcy nodded his silent reply, and the liquor was handed to him in a crystal cut tumbler before the manservant bid him goodnight and left him to brood.

He glanced up at the clock on the mantelpiece and expired once more. He could not believe that only a further ten minutes had passed; it had seemed like two hours. Staring at the bottom of the now empty glass, Darcy found himself at a loose end for in his haste he had readied himself before the hour was up.

While his annoyance brewed over how time had inconveniently slowed to snail's pace when he did not wish it, Elizabeth had also completed her needs before the end of the designated hour. She had been pacing the length of the room, back and forth as her restlessness built. She wanted more than anything to be a good wife, but she also knew that her initiation into womanhood would not go without its affliction. Her aunt had neglected to divulge the horrific part of her wedding night until that morning, and it was only when her maid had left, that she allowed herself to feel the impact of her aunt's words. _There will be blood, and I cannot deny that you will not feel some amount of pain. You will have to hope your husband is gentle with you, as this will ease your discomfort._ Elizabeth was not good with pain, and even though her courage rose in the face of adversity, it failed her when it came to her own injury.

She fidgeted for some time before noticing a bottle of Champagne on the table and fixed upon the idea that if she allowed herself just a small tipple, it might coax her fortitude from whence it had hidden. She poured herself a measure that would astonish anyone who could observe her portion, but quickly imbibed the liquid with much haste. This had a consequence that she did not anticipate, for the French wine had burnt its path down her throat and sent bubbles up her nose. "Oh!" She gasped. She felt the effects almost instantly as it took her mind off of the impending events, so she took another, then another. Before she was aware of the consumed quantity, she felt rather warm. _Oh, Lud! I have drunk half the bottle!_ It soon dawned on her, that she had overindulged. Collapsing back onto the bed, she stared up at the ceiling, but now the room had begun to spin. A giggle escaped her lips when she thought of how her husband would react to seeing her in her altitudes*. "He will think me a Boosey cup-shot,*" she snorted.

As the full hour approached, Darcy walked across the length of the sitting room and knocked on the door to Elizabeth's bedchambers. He caught a distinct yet garbled reply, so entered. He was nervous, his dampened palms and unsteady breathing plagued his countenance, but as soon as he perceived his wife on the bed, swinging her arms and legs around as if she was dancing like a fairy in the air, his own anxiety dissipated only to be replaced by confusion. Moving closer, he wondered why she was acting in such a way, then spotted the now half a bottle of Champagne and sighed. She was drunk.

"Elizabeth. What have you done?" he sighed. He determined the amount she had consumed and wondered if she was fit enough to continue.

Taking her hands in his, he pulled her up into a sitting position before taking the seat next to her on the bed. Elizabeth smiled widely at him, "Ho! Husband. Haf you come to do your jooty h'and ravish me wif your pokey thang?" she said while wiggling her finger in the direction of Darcy's loin. "I zood warn you though that I ham rather flull on your cham… champ… wine. I haf lef you some." She leaned against him with her face buried in his chest and snorted.

Darcy gently wrapped his arms around her back, holding her to him in case she slipped away. "You are quite endearing, Mrs Darcy. A happy little cherub, I believe."

" Mm… Ju haf hairs hon your chest," she moaned as she nuzzled into him. She sounded almost wanton.

He stiffened as her breath spread warmth upon his skin. Her face was against his bare chest, just above the edge of his robe. _Oh, Lord. If this heavenly sensation is only the beginning, I think I will die the little death* several times before morning._ With a great deal of effort to sound almost human, Darcy enquired if his wife was aware of their imminent union that evening.

"Yez, husband. I want to become your wi… wife in h'every sense. Fritzwirriam, take me; make me yours, but pweaze be gentle," she pleaded as she looked up to him, cross-eyed.

"Before we do anything, I want you to drink some water and lay down for a while and have a nap." Darcy gave her a large glass of cold water from the decanter on the side table, which she drank with much haste before succumbing to sleep.

Even though he was fighting his baser instincts, he would not be so ungentlemanly as to take his wife while she was in such a state, so he allowed himself the time to take in every inch of her loveliness. His eyes wandered from her face, down her swan-like neck to where her robe met skin. He saw the delicate lace of the nightgown he had ordered from Madame de Bois and the desire to inspect the fine craft of the seamstress was great, or that is what he told himself. In truth, he wanted nothing more than to unfasten the belt to her robe and take in the delights of her form. He knew that the undergarment would not leave much to the imagination, as that was his want when he had ordered it that day. He took the end of her belt, but before he gave a light tug, he stopped. _No! This is a violation of her privacy, I must wait. Besides, I wish to see Elizabeth_ _'_ _s reaction as I gaze upon her for the first time; I want her to see my desires._

He moved to her side so carefully, as to not disturb her slumber and pulled her to him gently. He could smell her scent, a combination of the faint residue of Lily of the Valley that most women wore and the heady redolence of woman. Watching the slight ebb and flow of her breathing, it had only taken Darcy a few minutes to follow her into his own dormancy.

* * *

"Huh! What! Where am I?" the new Mrs Darcy questioned on waking. Darcy woke with a start as Elizabeth sat bolt upright in bed.

"What?" he grumbled. "Oh! Elizabeth, I must have dozed off." He sat up and rubbed his eyes. Looking at the candelabrum on the bedside table, he determined that several hours had past and it was well beyond midnight. The many candles had filled the room in bright light and thus bathing Elizabeth with an incandescent glow. "Sweetness, you are in your bedchambers at Darcy House," her husband spoke softly.

"Has it happened yet? Have we consummated the marriage? Am I yours?" Elizabeth said in a flurry. She was almost panic-stricken.

"No, of course not. I want you to be responsive Elizabeth, not senseless. Please calm yourself," he soothed as he pulled her back down onto the bed.

"Wait!"

"What is the matter?" Was she refusing him?

"I need to use the chamberpot." She dashed out of sight, and it was not long before a micturating sound emanated from the dressing room. Darcy did not waste time and removed his nightshirt while his wife was preoccupied and dived back under the covers. When Elizabeth returned, Darcy was drawn to her and noted instantly the lack of her robe. She was glorious as she walked towards the bed.

"Stop!" he commanded abruptly. "I need to look at you." His eyes broke from hers as they roamed down the length of her form. The lace left little to the imagination and he could determine the dark thatch of hair at her pudenda and the rosebuds of her bosoms. As he absorbed the sight before him, he began to feel his control slip. "So beautiful, Elizabeth. Do you realise how lovely you are?"

"No, I do not," she whimpered. "So you find me desirable?" He silently replied with a nod. She moved towards him and Elizabeth's breath hitched as she realised he was complete without clothes, but at least he had the modesty of a counterpane across _his raging monster._

"Come here, my darling." He held his hands out to her and she accepted him; his main objective was to pull her back into his embrace. As Elizabeth lay back down beside him, she responded to the pull of his expression. It was enticing, alluring and all that she wished for was a physical connection of an unknown variety.

Darcy pushed the wisps of hair from her neck with the back of his fingers and kissed the deliciously scented skin beneath. "So beautiful," he whispered between each caress.

"Fitzwilliam," she sighed. Darcy responded with a mumble. "Please, can you attend to me slowly."

"I will, for I would not wish for this to be unpleasant," he confirmed as his hand run the length of her bare arm.

Many gentle kisses were bestowed and with each one, Elizabeth sank deeper and deeper into the unknown. Sensations began to manifest, feelings that she had not experienced before, but felt exceedingly pleasant as she entered the abyss. She sensed a wetness between her legs that she had not anticipated, but her state of exhilaration did not allow her to ponder on its rightness.

"Elizabeth, I am going to touch you. Please do not be alarmed at your body's reaction to my caresses; You may think it incredible, but it will be a normal response to lovemaking." She felt his hand rest upon her thigh. A light touch, but the sensations that manifested from his gentle strokes made Elizabeth squirm, but Darcy urged her to relax.

He broke their connection once more as he surveyed her body. She drew in a deep breath when she deemed her gown being pushed up and a warm hand splayed out against her skin. The lace had barely covered her, but now the cold air that had partially penetrated the sheerness of the fabric had besieged her entirely. "Are you well, Elizabeth?" Darcy asked as he felt her shiver. She had not expected him to say anything, for there had been no words between them for several minutes, while he admired her, stroked her, started to undress her.

"Yes."

"Do you wish for me to continue?"

"Yes." She did not wish for him to stop, for he was the impetus to her desires. As his hand moved up her body, it came into contact with her left bare breast and gave it a gentle squeeze. Elizabeth's back arched at the sensation it had produced; sending tingling ripples down her body to a conclusion at the convergence of her thighs. "Oh, dear Lord!" she pleaded as the hand was replaced by a set of lips.

Darcy could not refuse himself the delight of tasting her flesh for her puckered morsels were begging to be traversed. As his tongue flicked the hardened tip, his free hand descended slowly south. His destination was her wetness. The slow shift in his ministrations was not anticipated and Elizabeth could not cease a slow groan as he touched her most private of places. He had only rested there, cupping his fingers around its curve, but as Darcy grew more aroused, his boldness increased. His palm tightened around her, inserting pressure on the area before he started to gently rub. That, in conjunction with his attentions to her breasts, produced the oddest thing. Her legs parted.

"Elizabeth," he breathed. "I need you. I need to see all of you." His invocation was most assuredly a plea for her to remove the last barrier of clothing. With little struggle, she lifted her bottom then raised her shoulders as Darcy pulled the lace garment up and over her head. There before him was his wife, naked, unabashed and utterly amorous. His hand ran the full length of her body, but then took a deep shuddering breath before his controlled instincts had dissolved into a frantic frenzy.

"Oh, Lord!" she gasped as his hand returned to its base. His fingers dipped into her wet crease and commenced the most delicious flourish of cosseting she had ever felt. Her heart surely would beat out of her chest if she let it; her breathing so laborious she knew she would suck all the air out of the room.

"Darling, I have to taste you," he almost growled before sinking to the foot of the bed. She thought he had abandoned her as he shifted away, but as he parted her legs further, his head came forward as he peppered kisses upon the insides of her thighs and finally reached his destination.

She groaned as he ran his nose along her crease, inhaling her fragrance several times before he dipped his tongue into the lushness and his soft velvet commenced lapping at the succulent flesh. Elizabeth felt her wetness increase due to his administration, which only spurred her husband to double is efforts with more urgency than she could bear.

"Please!" she begged. She had started to writhe under his service of her body and knew that she was ready. She was wet, she was swollen, but most of all she was in a heady state of bliss, but aching for him.

He shifted to between her legs, nudging them wider with eagerness. His tarse was painfully engorged and had been so since he had awoken; its tip had wept its sorrows for having bid its time until she was ready, but now she was, and the moment had arrived where he would make her his. Darcy took another deep shuddering breath as he stroked himself along her wet soft furrow before poising his member at the gates of heaven. "Elizabeth, my darling," he consoled as he abruptly thrust into her depths and the connection was made.

There was a moment of silence.

Elizabeth's eyes finally opened as the pain abated and their fierce gaze met once more. Observing her acceptance of the evasion of her lush cavity, Darcy bid her permission to continue. For her reply, she cupped his face in her hands and brought his mouth down to meet hers in a buss so sweet that he could not refrain from the rhythmic movement of his body.

"Oh, Elizabeth, my sweet darling wife," he gloried. His words were worship to the woman in his embrace, a homage to his lover, and an adoration for his wife.

She felt full. She felt stretched. But most of all, she felt complete. Their eyes locked once more as he stirred the insides of her tight walls until the most exquisite excitation took hold. Elizabeth believed she was going to die when something deep inside of her snapped, culminating in the most paradisiacal experience. As she threw herself at the mercy of this unknown entity, Darcy let out a roar and followed suit, discharging his seed deep within her body as she strangled him of his offerings. He groaned, he growled, then he collapsed.

They remained locked in their hold of each other as both tried to calm. Darcy had buried his face into the bountiful of her hair, but it was not long before he heard a soft giggle. Prizing himself away from the comfort of her shoulder, he was surprised to find her laughing. "What do you find so amusing, Mrs Darcy?" He smiled as she continued to catch her breath in order to answer.

"You. You were grunting and snarling like a wild beast." Darcy's smile turned into a categorical grin. "You were positively animal-like." He bent forward and placed a tender kiss once more on her lips, but as he did, their connection broke as he slipped out of her.

After a few moments, Elizabeth asked, "I dare not look, and I hate to ask, but is there much blood?"

He hesitated but did as his wife asked and on observing the area he frowned. "Hardly anything to speak of. Did it hurt much?"

"No. I was surprised how little it did hurt. Maybe with what aunt said this morning, I allowed my imagination to run wild, expecting some sort of macabre onslaught of my nether regions and the aftermath not dissimilar to that of a well-used slaughterhouse. She implied there would be blood and it would hurt."

"Dear Lord! If that be the case, I am surprised any woman gets married. Do all maidens think that when they lie with their husbands for the first time?"

"Oh, I do not know as we are not told of all the details until the last minute. It is a very well kept secret, as you know."

"Yes, well, I did think maybe you all knew but were sworn to secrecy. But if you are saying you did not know and expected something horrific, then I am not surprised you drank half of the champagne."

"Fitzwilliam, I did not mean to get so Boosey. I only meant to have enough to take the edge off of my nerves. I hope you do not think I will be a drunken wife every night."

"Do not fret. I had thought as much when you were flat out on your back, pretending to dance like a fairy," he laughed.

"What? Oh, dear," she grimaced in recollection of that moment. "I mentioned a pokey thing, did I not?" He grinned. "Heaven forbid my tongue will get me into trouble." Darcy looked smug. "Why are you looking at me in that way?"

"Because you are a delight. I know we will be happy together, for we seem to be made for each other. Our fathers certainly knew we would be content in our union."

"I wonder who mentioned it first. Your father or mine?"

"Ah, I would imagine mine. I doubt your father would have offered you to me. It would have been my father suggesting the match. A bit like it would be if I were to ask you to marry me."

"Which you still have not done." Elizabeth cocked a brow.

"What do you mean?" He thought for a moment. "I did not propose, did I."

"No. You said, and I quote, 'Please say you are in agreement to our fathers' arrangement.'"

"Ah," he sighed with some regret. Thinking for a moment, Darcy pulled back the covers and jumped out. He moved to his wife's side and so prompting Elizabeth to look away from his nakedness until he fell to his knees.

"Miss Bennet," he chuckled, "Would you do me the honour of becoming my wife. Will you marry me for I have a passion so great, that if you do not, I will surely die?"

"Erm? Thank you for the kind offer, sir, but I find that I cannot." She bit her lips together to stifle a laugh.

"What?!… but, Elizabeth?"

"I cannot marry you, as I am already. Gloriously, wonderfully, hedonistically married to a delightful man of seven and twenty from the north." Darcy grinned, rose, and pulled back her side of the bedcovers. "Mr Darcy!"

"Yes, Mrs Darcy?"

"What are you doing?"

"I believe I am in need once more."

"Can you be needy more than once in an evening?" she gasped.

"Certainly. So, I will ask again. Will you be my wife, Elizabeth?"

"Yes, again and again," came a whisper of a reply as she succumb to his gentle persuasion once more.

* * *

Footnote

* From the 1811 Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue.

 _ALTITUDES. The man is in his altitudes, i.e. he is drunk._

 _BOOSEY. Drunk._

 _CUP-SHOT. Drunk._

The little death - usage is more modern than Regency, Author's perogative :) From Wikipedia - _**La petite mort**_ _(French pronunciation:_ _[la pətit mɔʁ], the little death) is an expression which means "the brief loss or weakening of consciousness" and in modern usage refers specifically to "the sensation of orgasm as likened to death"_ The first attested use with the meaning of "orgasm" was only in 1882.


	18. The Morning After the Night Before

-0-

Mrs Darcy had been in a battle with a pesky fly that had declared war upon her face the following morning. The opposition had been tormenting Elizabeth with its antagonism for the previous ten minutes, and however hard she tried to swat the varmint away, the critter kept coming back. She mumbled her annoyance at the insect as it landed on her nose for the fourth time, making her so frustrated that she turned over to remove herself from its vicinity, but it followed her direction and attacked her once more.

"Oh, this will not do!" she declared as she sat up in bed. There, laying next to her was her husband laughing. She then spied the duck feather in his hand, which he must have pulled from the pillow; he had been tickling her nose with it in an attempt to arouse her from her sleep.

"You!" exclaimed Elizabeth with some amount of surprise.

"Yes, me," he answered in delight. He made an appreciative sound as his eyes wandered the length of her gloriously naked back. The hum, she knew, was his confession for a wish to rekindle the passionate intimacies they had shared but a few hours previous. Elizabeth recollected, then winced at the wanton way in which she had acted, but before she could apologise for her reckless abandonment, she felt a set of fingers slowly run up her spine. She shuddered before turning to see her husband's hunger; his eyes still shone with desire.

The morning had eased her tipsiness, but now all she felt was utterly embarrassed. In her intoxication, she had let her passions take hold so ferociously, and her reaction of his person moving within her had been so exquisite, that if she did not quell her thirst now, she was at risk of her lover's carnality becoming somewhat of an addiction. He would become a drug of which she could not deny, for it would feed her cravings and if left unchecked, those cravings would start to wage war against her morality. It was morning and people did not behave in such a lascivious manner during daylight hours, but as she looked at him now with his lust filled expression, she realised that Darcy was in great danger of having a wife so desperately rampant that he may have to tie her down like a rabid dog. He ran his fingers along her back once more and she shuddered. His show of appreciation left Elizabeth weak.

"Come here, my darling," he commanded; his voice laced with a yearning so great that if he did not have her, he would surely burst. He had aroused her thrice more during the night, but this had not been enough for he could have continued until dawn. However, a small voice in his head begged him to refrain, for she must have been sore after her defloration and his repetitive attentions would not have allayed her injury. She had vowed to be a good wife and did not care for a sort of marriage which would only be for the continuation of the family name. She wanted the hot flames that had fuelled her wants, and he was fervently in agreement to this. He desired her brazen, and this was proved numerous times since he breached her barrier, and now he wanted to prove it to her again. But there lie the quandary; should she act as such in the starkness of the day?

The night's candlelight had softened the look of her skin, but Elizabeth knew that the brightness of the morning sun flooding through the windows would cast a sharpness upon her. She was under no illusion that she was perfect, far from it, but the candle glow had been a friend to her appearance and eased the harshness of the spatterings of small scars that adorned her body; this had given her some amount of confidence, along with the liquor she had consumed. Now he would see her most faithfully and could kick herself for being so boisterous during her childhood, for that is when most of her marks had occurred. The thought of him seeing the blemishes made her sink back down onto the bed and pulled the bedcovers tightly up under her chin.

"Do not hide from me, Elizabeth."

"But… I am cold," she replied hoping that he would allow her to keep the comfort of the counterpane, but all it did was make him pull her into his embrace.

"Oh, do you need warming up, my sweet?" Even though it was late summer, the morning sun had yet to penetrate the cold night's air and banish it from the day. Elizabeth gasped as his chilled hands came around her, pulling her to his body. She slid across the bed and into the fold of his arms, and as she shifted, his stiffened manhood nudged and rested against her hip. _Oh, dear, Lord!_

She nestled her head against his shoulder, but neither could take their gaze away from the other, not until her eyes flickered down and she noticed his scar. It was still quite visible but seemed smaller as he had grown from the young man she remembered as a child. Running her fingers along it, she let out a soft mewl as she observed his thick muscular neck, shoulders and arms. He was dishevelled, he looked sleepy due to the lack of repose, but considering all this he looked even more handsome.

"I am sorry to have woken you in such a way, but I had to take drastic measures to try and stir you. _You are a very heavy sleeper, Elizabeth, and the snoring was atrocious. I nearly put a pillow over your head at one point."_

"I do not snore, Fitzwilliam, take that back!" she exclaimed, pouting at such teasing.

Darcy was laughing at his apparently affronted wife. "I am sorry, my sweet. No, you do not snore. You mumble though," he said with raised eyebrows _._ _"_ _It was enlightening to hear all of your secrets."_

"No!" she shamefully gasped. "I have never been coherent in my sleep. Are you sure?" He could not hold his jest any longer and let out another guffaw. Hence he was rewarded with a swipe of the pillow to his head.

" _Ouch!"_

This subtle declaration of war ensued the master's blood to pump, and a newly invigorated battle commenced. He grabbed Elizabeth by the wrists and pulled them above her head. He was now above her, holding his wife in place and denying her release. To Darcy's delight, she let out a playful squeal. "I have you now, Mrs Darcy, there is no getting away from me. You will pay for that swat."

"But you deserved it, husband," she giggled before managing to shift and roll him off of her before pushing him onto the floor.

"Good Lord! I did not think you had the strength in you!" He got up off of the floor and stood there in full view of his wife. Elizabeth was still unable to look upon his nakedness and even more so, as his tarse was standing to attention. She averted her eyes away from the object that had coddled her pudic flesh for fear she would encourage it further, but Darcy did not need additional incentives as he crawled back onto the bed with all the hunger of a beast stalking its prey. "Darling, are you sore?" he asked as he kissed her neck just below her earlobe in the hopes that she was not. He had already discovered that the spot made her pulse race as much as if he were sucking on the flesh between her thighs.

"I do not know," came a groaned response. "I do not think so; I hope I am not."

He had taken her repeatedly that he feared her virginal passage was chafed from his constant attentions, but hoped that his continued anointment of her femininity would have lessened her injury. Darcy closed his eyes on that thought, he could not resist so his hand slowly trailed down her body until he made contact with her warmth and dipped into the portal which now held his prior spendings. "You are beautiful, my darling. You are perfection personified." His ministrations proved her tolerance, and so there they stayed for some duration, reacquainting themselves with the delights of the night before.

As they calmed, a thought manifested itself. "What is it, Elizabeth? You are deep in thought."

"Oh, it is something and nothing." She said trying to ignore her untimely thoughts.

"We must be open with each other. Last night and again this morning has been new for you. I know your aunt has explained, but you must have questions, now that you have experienced what was, up until yesterday, unknown to you." She instantly noticed the use of 'you' and not 'us' but chose to ignore it. She knew he was experienced from the little he had divulged, but it would not do her good to explore his past unnecessarily.

"Yes. Oh, dear… Erm?… How often do you think you will come to me?"

"Bored of me already, Mrs Darcy? I wish to bed you every night regardless of if you are with child or not. As you said yesterday, the marriage bed does not have to be solely to beget an heir. Did you not enjoy yourself? I assumed with how you have reacted, that you did."

Elizabeth looked at her husband with a shy smile, "I enjoyed it exceedingly. I know I said what I said, but surely-."

"I know we discussed this last night, and I agreed with you, but I suppose we did not establish a timetable. I do not wish to live by a governed plan, so if we are in the mood, then it does not matter if it is a Tuesday or a Thursday."

"People set it to a rule? Heaven forbid!"

"Well, I will be doing so, to some degree."

"How?"

"At the very least, every night, my sweet. Unless you are indisposed." At this Elizabeth blushed; he was referring to her courses. Luckily, they were only of short duration, and they would need to abstain for only two days a month.

"I am sure you can live with a couple of days separation."

Darcy's surprise was not subtle. "Two days?"

"If you mean what I believe you mean, then yes, two days."

"I could take you again with that tidbit of information, but I will refrain... So, when is your next-"

"Fitzwilliam! I am not saying!" He laughed, pulled back the covers to reveal himself before jumping out of bed.

"We need to rise if we are to be on the road by ten o'clock." Elizabeth watched her husband walk about the room; now slightly less embarrassed at his form, she was quite blatant with her perusal of his person before he wrapped his robe around him. "I am going to get ready in my rooms; Roger will be waiting. I will see you downstairs for breakfast shortly."

"Yes, I suppose I will have to get up," she said with a huff. "Or you could just come back to bed, and we can leave for the north tomorrow."

"As tempting as it sounds, we do have a timetable in that aspect. The staff are expecting us by Friday, so we must leave this morning if we are to arrive by then." He explained before kissing her on his departure.

* * *

Elizabeth felt the need to relieve herself; on entering the dressing room, she used the chamberpot once more. She was surprised that it had been emptied from her use during the night, so assumed that her abigail had already arrived and was making busy close-by. She reluctantly wiped away the residue of her husband's spendings from her body, and for some odd reason she could not understand, she sat there looking at the evidence of their couplings on the cloth. Being inquisitive as she was, she inspected it further with the point of her finger and smeared the sticky substance around; it was not as she had imagined it would be. She was also surprised to see how little blood there was upon herself or the bedding. It was of such an insignificant amount to what she had expected, but enough to confirm her loss of virtue.

The maid she had met the previous evening knocked for permission to enter, bringing Elizabeth out of her private inquisition. She quickly scrunched the cloth in her hand and slipped it up the sleeve of her robe. She would use it in the bath so that she could wash away the collective fluids as she did not care for her maid to see what she had been so curious to inspect.

"Morning, ma'am. Would you like me to tidy your hair into a bun before your bath? They are just bringing the water up."

"Oh! Do I need to go elsewhere?" Elizabeth said eyeing the bath before her.

"No, mistress. The men will leave it outside the door and I will fetch it in."

"Are you strong enough?" The stout lady chuckled and said that she had poured plenty a bath in her time and it was of little consequence. "Well, I do hope you have the patience of a saint; my hair does tangle terribly, especially if I do not tie it back," she explained as she held out clumps of tangled tresses.

"My sister has a similar look to her hair. Tangles terribly, it does. I know that Miss Darcy has some pomade in her rooms if you care to try it?"

"Oh! I have never thought of using an ointment. Does it work?"

"I believe so. Although Miss Darcy's hair is straight, it is still thick. It smooths it quite nicely."

Elizabeth had decided to come out of full mourning and into the subtleties of half mourning, so Hannah helped her dress into a rose coloured gown. She cared not for wearing the fashion of a lace cap, but society being as it was, she chose to wear the barest of accessories in order to quench the thirst of the fashionable gossips. Therefore, little more than a length of ruffled lace had been placed over her bun and affixed with jewel-encrusted pins, hoping that the sheer amount of lace and fine stones were enough to accredit her new station in the higher circles.

"Hannah, have you been in the Darcy service for long?" inquired Elizabeth.

"Around five years ma'am. I used to work as a servant at The Bull Inn in Lambton and serve as a ladies maid when guests would come. My brother is an under-gardener at Pemberley, and he was made aware that there was a vacancy for a maid, so he put my name forward for the job. Mrs Reynolds met with me, and I started work straight away. Within two years I had been made up to Miss Darcy's personal maid, then when the master had informed Mrs Reynolds that you were to be married, she requested that I move from Miss Darcy to yourself. As I was already in London with Miss Darcy, the master agreed; Sophie is to become Miss Darcy's new abigail upon the young miss's request as she is quite fond of her."

"Oh! Have you all journeyed down from Pemberley? I thought you were from the London staff."

"No, ma'am, I do not expect there is anyone suitable. The townhouse staff are less varied than those at Pemberley, and you would not find anyone qualified to attend to your needs; they are more trained to keep the house in working order. They do a grand job, but doubt they could fix your hair into the latest coiffure."

* * *

Darcy's head was buried in his newspaper when Elizabeth entered the breakfast room. She sat down quietly at the table without his awareness of her presence, which sparked a mischievous desire for impish foolery. She flicked the centre of her husband's paper with the intention of startling him. _"_ _Oh, I am sorry."_ She was quite obvious with her motive to be cheeky, but the Darcy had his own waggish trick up his sleeve.

"If you do not behave yourself, madam, you may earn yourself a spanking," he warned as he bent forward and whispered in her ear.

"You would not dare!" she gasped as she flustered around, noticing the servants were possibly in earshot.

At her expected reaction, he signed for the footmen to leave them alone and once the door was shut, Darcy leaned forward once more, but this time it was in a most intimidating manner. He could not hold his frolic and eventually grinned. "No, I would not. It was quite amusing to see what your reaction would be and you did not disappoint."

"Fitzwilliam!" she exclaimed. "You are enough to give a girl apoplexy. I thought you were one of these men, who slapped their wives in the bedroom…" Here she stopped.

"Elizabeth Darcy! I would not have thought it of you to know of such acts!"

"Well, there was a book I found not so long ago," she mentioned nonchalantly whilst observing her nails. "It made for quite a shocking read."

"I bet it would. I will not inquire where you obtained this book, but I can safely say that you do not need to worry yourself, for it is only a very select few who take enjoyment at that sort of thing."

"And you do not?"

"No, why do you ask?"

"I would quite like to experience the odd slap on my rump just at the right moment. Just to ease my curiosity, mind you," Elizabeth cocked her brow, giving him no doubt to her challenge.

"Dear, Lord. What have I created?"

"Oh look! We have gammon," she innocently observed the table in order to change the subject and so to leave her husband in such a bemused state, with little opportunity for a continuation on the subject. She hoped, however, that it would be enough for him to dwell on her words and at some point reintroduce the topic, and so continue the tease.

After a quarter of an hour, Darcy broke the silence that seemed comfortable to Elizabeth but stifling to himself. All he cared to do was question her on what she had said, but he knew he would have to wait until they were alone in their bedchambers to continue such a sordid subject. "You look lovely, my dear," he finally said. He approved of her light apparel. Even the mop cap was subtle enough to allow her pretty curls not to go unnoticed; he loved her hair, especially when he ran his fingers through it and did not wish for her to hide it under a deluge of lace.

"I thought it time to come out of black. I will still wear my brooch."

"Of course, I would not expect you not to, for it is your father's spirit," he smiled remembering her words after he had given the gift to her.

"Yes, and I am glad I did not have it on last night," she laughed. "It would not do for Papa to be sitting about my neck, whilst… Well, you know."

"You were a swill tub?"

"I was not!"

"You were. You drank a ridiculous amount of strong wine in such a short time. You did not allow what was in your system to take effect before you poured more down your throat."

"I told you…" she stopped to think. "Fitzwilliam, is this our first quarrel?"

"I did not think we were quarrelling. I was teasing."

"Oh!"

He frowned. Had he upset her by going too far? "Oh, sweetheart, I did not mean for you to take offence to what I said. I was only making banter. It would hurt me if I disquieted you with my actions."

"I thought you so mad that you may wish to spank me," her eyes sparkled with playfulness once more. She had been holding the upper hand after all.

"Minx!"


	19. Darcy's Eureka Moment

-0-

The late summer sun appeared low in the sky when the Darcy carriage commenced its journey to the north from the prestigious London residence in Grosvenor Square, but by solar noon, Darcy was feeling the effects of the heat from the midday sun as it reached its highest altitude. It was hotter than the average August day, and Darcy was feeling it acutely.

"I am sure someone forgot to tell the sun that in two weeks time, it would have to make way for autumn. It should not be so damn hot! Anyone would think it was the middle of July!" He grumbled and fretted at his neckcloth until he huffed in defeat.

"I do not mind if you wish to remove your tailcoat or even your waistcoat and neckcloth for that matter," Elizabeth stated as she watched her husband start to fidget again.

"I cannot. It would not be proper," Darcy sighed as he pulled at the now dampened cloth around his throat.

"Who is here to see? _I do not wish for an irritable husband when we reach Northampton, and I certainly can do with a more amiable travel companion than the curmudgeon sitting in front of me._ _"_ She cocked her brow to see if he had taken the bait, but he had not. _"_ _We have at least another fifteen miles to travel, and you must think of your wife's despair at having to sit with such a grumbler."_

"I am sorry, darling. It is just that… Ah!" he capitulated. "You are lucky with your light cotton and muslin. You do not need to contend with layers of tight, thick fabric in such conditions," he stated as he flapped his hands around to try and create some breeze.

"But do not forget the stays, the chemise and countless layers of petticoats that one wears. But I must admit that I declined on dressing properly this morning as I knew it would be rather stifling in here. I wear only my short stays under this quite thin dress." Her manner was seductive, and this got Darcy's attention.

"No petticoats?" He gasped when she acknowledged she had none. "No chemise?" Again another affirmation. "Not even stockings!"

"No. Nothing other than my stays, which as you know I need."

"Oh, I do not know," he smirked. She observed that all his recent ills were now forgotten.

"Fitzwilliam."

"Yes?" She shook her head at the audacity of the man, for he still had that mischievous look in his eyes, but then she did direct the conversation along that path.

"Do you wish for me to play maid… or should I say, valet?" She patted the seat to her right, and Darcy moved across to sit beside her.

"So, Mrs Darcy, you are going to help me undress?" But before she acknowledged, Darcy shifted to kneel down in front of her, holding his arms out straight. "Undo my buttons, wife!" His eyes bore into hers as he commanded her duties.

Elizabeth's nimble fingers made light work of the waistcoat's buttons, and once the last was unfastened, she ran her palms along the lines of his chest and to his shoulders in order to push both the waistcoat and tailcoat from his back. Darcy could not resist leaning forward, and in doing so, Elizabeth had to part her knees slightly to accommodate his shift. Placing both hands down on either side of her seat, he nuzzled the dip in her neck, which rewarded him with a subtle, yet audible mewl. "Your neckcloth, Fitzwilliam," she whispered with no small amount of want. Darcy pulled back slightly but was still close enough to place his forehead against hers. His lips parted as he struggled to inhale enough air to fill his lungs, for his body had demanded fuel for his present inflamed state. She continued to untwine the distinct Trone d'amour tie from his throat; all the time his eyes focused on her sweet lips, which were in a similar state as his, for her breaths were also quick and laboured. He wanted her, he needed her, but he knew she would not let him take such liberties as full congress upon an open road.

Tilting his head, he lightly brushed his lips against hers, whereupon she let out a shiver. His closeness at that moment felt just as intimate as the previous night's delights, for he felt pure adoration. He peppered buss after buss to her cheeks, chin, and around the edges of her lips but it was her mouth he was fixated on. He began to throb when he witnessed a small, yet significant act as Elizabeth's tongue darted out and licked the pinkness to her mouth; her plump pink lips were now glistening, reminding him of her most private of areas. "Elizabeth," he breathed. His cheek rubbed against hers, but her hand came to rest on his other cheek to still his movement, for she dared not let him continue for fear of where it would lead.

Finally, the neckcloth had been loosened and the fabric thrown to the floor. "Now you are free." She spoke with such sensuality.

"I will never be free; I am a prisoner," he confessed. Elizabeth did not deduce the true meaning of this announcement, but it was in that very moment Fitzwilliam Darcy, a gentleman of the ton, and master of Pemberley realised his heart had been struck with cupid's arrow.

He loved her.

He began to tremble at the thought as his new situation took hold. He was a man so passionately in love with his wife of all but a day. As he contemplated this new position he found himself in, he determined that his heart had not suddenly changed overnight. Thinking back, a thought struck him; the romantic German lied Elizabeth had sung during the dinner party at Darcy House. It was then that his body had been invaded with such strong affection.

His abrupt change from seductive lover to quietude worried Elizabeth. "Fitzwilliam? Are you unwell?"

"Erm?… I am still rather hot." He did not know what to say; he felt his tongue was in knots and whatever he spoke would come out as gibberish nonsense.

"If you cannot cool as you are, then it may do you well to pull the fabric out of your breaches? Let the air flow around, so to speak," she continued with concern for his health rather than the effects of his private thoughts. He cleared his throat and tried to imbue the turmoil in his mind with a calmness, but as he gazed back at her with such adoration, the pounding of his heart grew stronger until it started to ring in his ears. "Fitzwilliam, what is the matter?"

"I… I… Nothing. Everything is finally how it should be." _On my part, that is, my love._ He had no hesitation in understanding that his newly acquainted emotions were not reciprocated by his wife. Yes, she was fond of him and tolerated his advances; she even enjoyed their time together, but he doubted she loved him in return.

For some time, Darcy remained seated next to his wife in quiet contemplation. With her hand in his, he stroked the back of her fingers with his thumb, relishing the exquisite feelings that now meant more to him than he could bear. He looked at her, and she had closed her eyes, absorbing his touch. "Are you tired, Elizabeth?" he asked softly.

" _I am a little, for there was this rather libidinous creature in my bed last night who would not leave me be," she smiled._

"I am sorry. I did not mean to…" Elizabeth put her finger to his lips to hush his apology.

"I would have had it no other way. But I fear that now I will be of no use later tonight if I do not try and rest now."

"Do you care to lay down and take a nap?"

"How can I? This seat is no wider than four feet."

"Ah! There is a secret to this vehicle. As I use it for long journeys, the trunks are placed under the seats so when it is needed they can be pulled out and so allowing you to lay down. Do you care for me to demonstrate?"

"I have never heard of such a thing, but yes, I would love to see."

Darcy knelt down in front of the seat and pulled out the trunk, which had been placed there before they left London. He grabbed a small damask covered mattress roll which sat next to it and placed that over the top and so forming a U shape around the perimeter of the interior, connecting both front and rear seats with the makeshift bench.

"Who would have thought of such a thing! This is ingenious."

"My father first thought of it. We used to travel back and forth between our houses and mother used to get quite fatigued during those journeys. Father had the idea of doubling the trunk's use."

"Well, thank you, Mr Darcy… and Mr Darcy senior," she smiled.

 _And thank you, father, for this treasure,_ Darcy thought.

He sat back next to his wife as she fell into a deep sleep; the motion of the carriage had assisted her in her drift, and it was within only a matter of five minutes that her mumbling could be heard above the horses' hooves.

He reached for the vitals basket, which had been packed that morning, and pulled out the journal he had hidden there. He wished to put his newfound feelings to paper, the permanent reminder would ensure he could read those sentiments he felt at that moment, time and time again. He unfastened the padlock from the key on his fob chain, which held the volume shut and began to write.

 _Dear Diary  
_ _I find it hard to put into words, the sheer joy that I now feel_ _…_

* * *

There had been an error in communication between the Inn and Roger, the valet, who had ridden ahead with Hannah once both the mistress and master were dressed. "Sir, they have only one room for you and Mrs Darcy. I know that I requested two when I arrived three hours ago, but they seem to have erred my instruction. There are no more rooms available… Well, there are the servant's rooms, I suppose, but…" Roger paused as it was a ridiculous idea for the master to take the adjacent bed in the servants' quarters. "I've argued with them until I was blue in the face. I don't know how they got it wrong. Two is two, not one."

"Do not fret, Roger," Elizabeth soothed, "I am sure Mr Darcy and I will be well enough with the single room."

"Yes, mistress." Roger took his leave from their company and assisted Hannah with removing the smaller trunk from the carriage, which held both Darcy's and Elizabeth's travelling clothes.

"Looks as though we will have to snuggle up in the same bed again tonight, Mr Darcy. I do hope it's not too small."

"I will sleep in the chair," Darcy stated with some amount of calm. The previous three hours had allowed him to come to terms with his new state and he was far more confident in his approach; he no longer feared being a whimpering wreck.

"You will do nothing of the sort. I will not rest if you are uncomfortable during the night."

"I will be uncomfortable lying next to you in a rented bed, and you will get no rest with me sticking in your back… Elizabeth, I do not wish to take you in a travellers' inn."

"But you would think nothing of taking me in the moving carriage. I saw that look on your face, Fitzwilliam," she chuckled.

"But I did not proceed."

"No, and I wonder why?" she blushed. "Was it for my benefit you did not, and if I had let you, what would you have done? _You would have had me pinned to the seat with my legs sticking out of the windows._ _"_

"Ha! You have an imagination, Elizabeth. I could have easily taken you from where I had been kneeling."

"Mr Darcy!"

"Yes, I am he and will always be."

"You are incorrigible."

"You make me this way, darling. I have no control around you. I believe I proved that more than once already," he snorted. "Shall we?" Offering his arm, Darcy escorted his wife into the inn, where propriety was restored once more.

* * *

For a travellers' inn, the room was delightful. It was quite large and to Elizabeth's relief, the bed was big enough to fit four, let alone two. To one side sat a small table with two chairs and to the other was a door leading to a small dressing room, where a rather small tub sat. "This is the room they usually reserve for me. I have not travelled in company for the last couple of years, so can only assume they thought I would be alone."

"Do you not travel with Georgiana?"

"Not generally. She travels with Mrs Annesley, and Blakeney rides alongside the carriage. I tend to go on a day or two ahead of her."

"Who is Blakeney? Is that the man who has been riding that beast of a horse today?"

"Yes. He's riding Neptune, my thoroughbred. I do not usually bring my horse with me to town, but as I was at Bingley's estate earlier in the year, I had requested they bring him to me."

"He is certainly a fine animal, but can he cope with the miles over such a short space of time?"

"You will be surprised. Although, we are not going at any great speed and it will take us five days, instead of three, to reach our destination. I would not want him to go lame before we reach home."

"Oh, a very caring owner then."

"I would not treat him unkindly. I have had him since I was a child and has served me well…. Well, until he threw me from his back in Hertfordshire."

"Yes, we would have met all that much sooner," Elizabeth smiled.

"But I was not in a good mood, so am glad we did not. Elizabeth, I have… I…"

"What is it, Fitzwilliam?"

"Oh, nothing. I think we need to ready for dinner, as I understand the kitchen will close in an hour's time."

Elizabeth sat down at the peer mirror, tidying her hair. "Oh, I just thought, how will this work with Roger and Hannah and the single room?"

"We do not need them for one night. I am sure you can assist me with my needs. You did very well in the carriage earlier."

" _And how are you with lacing stays? Do you think you have the stamina?"_ she laughed, but then wondered if he had assisted a lady before with her corset. Seeing her expression drop, Darcy declared that he had not a clue when it came to ladies undergarments and would need detailed instructions. _"_ _Would you want me to shave you. I may slash your throat though."_

"No. I would quite like my neck left intact. I think I should be fine for one day, if I cannot do it myself."

"Why not have Roger attend to you after I am dressed. I can watch. I used to love watching Mr Hill shave papa. Although, in later years he grew a beard. It was too risky with his unstable behaviour and a blade close by."

"It must have been very difficult for you. I remember him as a very intelligent well read man. My father esteemed him exceedingly."

"In his later years, there were moments when I thought I would have to have him committed, but I fought against my indecisiveness until the end. It was at night he was the worst. He would wake up not knowing where he was, calling out for my mother who has been dead for over twenty years.

"I try not to think of the bad days and only the better ones when he was in his own little world, and nothing seemed wrong to him. He was happiest then, even though it was heartbreaking to see." A tear escaped from Elizabeth's eye. Darcy pulled her onto his lap and held her close while she sobbed out her grief that she thought was well depleted.

"Oh, darling, I wish I could take your pain away."

"You are doing the next best thing, husband. Just hold me close."


	20. Welcome to Pemberley, Mrs Darcy

-0-

The Darcys had been travelling for five days when the carriage made its way onto Pemberley soil at around mid-afternoon on the Friday. A salute in the form of a gunshot was fired when they passed the gates, which could be heard at the main house some two miles away. The broadcast had aroused the staff, and a hub of activity ensued so that all the servants, including the gardeners and stablehands, were presentable and in their formation in front of the entrance when the carriage came to a still.

Elizabeth looked out from behind the lace of the carriage window and what she observed at once had overwhelmed her sensibilities. The house presented itself as quite striking; in fact, it seemed magnificent but in a humble sort of way with its uniform aspect and simple sandstone masonry. She had seen plenty of older properties, which had survived since Tudor's reign, when her father had taken her to during her childhood excursions. _How many turrets and chimneys does a castle need,_ she remembered asking her papa when they had passed by the gothic Tudor Palace in London, which they were able to view from the road. Her papa had answered, saying that the privileged residents must indeed have been very cold for so many fires to be lit, even in the winter months it would have caused quite a fever. One particular house that struck in Elizabeth's mind was the eerily grotesque mansion in Kent. Its rooms had been open to the public on specific days in the summer, and they had ventured into that neck of the woods just in time to see the elaborately carved chimneypiece, hosting not one, but three grates within its hearth. _Another cold soul I believe lives here. At the cost of no less than eight hundred pounds for this elaborate piece, the poor woman must be in need of a head examination; why can she not just throw on a shawl like the rest of us, for it would have been far cheaper;_ her papa had ventured. In her eyes, the workmanship on those particular dwellings was overdone to the point of ostentatious, and ostentatious behaviour was bred from a bombastic inflated ego. A trait that she detested in a person. Pemberley, however, was quite the opposite, it spoke of wealth, but it revealed its owner to be more reserved, with a modest degree of self-importance that was rightfully vested in such a person of his calibre. He was an important landowner in these parts, but he was certainly no exhibitionist.

Noticing the plethora of staff awaiting their arrival, she quickly sat back in her seat, afraid that each face was cast upon her. "Fitzwilliam! So many people!" she exclaimed.

"I want you to calm yourself, Elizabeth. They are more anxious than you should feel, for they are to meet their new mistress and determined to make a good impression on you. You were easy enough at Darcy house, and so you should be here."

"Easier said than done. In London, there were a few; here you have the whole village!"

Darcy attempted to coax his wife into a placid stance, but could not help a chuckle escape when he saw her unnecessary agitation. "You will be well enough; they will not bite. Just remember you are Mrs Elizabeth Darcy and they are here to serve us both."

"I am sure they will not bite, but... I will try and behave as one should, but all I want to do is run away and hide," she said as she looked once more out of the window. "Do you think I will be missed if I did?"

Darcy laughed, "I am not sure about them, but I would certainly miss my wife. Come, they are all waiting to meet you."

Darcy disembarked from the carriage first to assist Elizabeth to alight; introductions were made to Mr Stoker, the butler and Mrs Reynolds, the housekeeper, who stood at the head of the line. The new mistress greeted the older gentleman and lady without the misfortune of stumbling upon her words, which was an accomplishment of no small feat for Elizabeth's mind was so full of wool, that she could barely recollect her new name, which her husband insisted she remember. _Elizabeth Bennet_ _…_ _No! Darcy! I am Elizabeth Darcy,_ she repeated in her head and then once that had been digested, she demanded an encore of her new identity to be pondered upon.

"Good Day, Mr Stoker, Mrs Reynolds, I am delighted to meet you both." _Yes, I believe I did that right. I am Elizabeth Darcy; she is the housekeeper, Mrs Reynolds. Mrs Reynolds and Mr Stoker; I must ensure to remember those names!_

Mr Stoker just bowed and gave a formal taciturn response, but Mrs Reynolds displayed a genuine smile and addressed the new mistress in a pleasing manner. "Good Day, ma'am. I am so glad you have returned to Pemberley. I remember you from when you were a little dot of a girl. I was housekeeper back then to the old master and have clear memories of you running in through the back door and into the kitchen."

 _Oh, thank the Lord! She is quite human._ Elizabeth relaxed forthwith, as she felt only warmth from the woman and concentrated on the individual rather than the hundred or so people surrounding her, watching… waiting for the new mistress to stumble at the earliest chance. "Yes! I believe I do remember you. You used to give us treats. I seem to recollect the strawberries were rather sweet."

"We keep a strawberry field," Darcy stated, "Although, the little rascals from the village eat most of them before they are ripe. I do not mind as it is how it has always been. I think father realised that the children would always steel them, so he made an official strawberry picking day and hoped that they waited until then to enjoy themselves without the risk of the upset flux that usually accompanies overindulgence of unripened fruit. It is held each year on the 23rd June, and if my memory serves me well, you ate quite a few that day. Since father's decision for the special day, we have kept space for growing a crop in the hothouses, for if we did not, the family would not have enjoyed a single fruit."

"Oh, dear. I think I remember someone wiping the mess from my face with her handkerchief," Elizabeth blushed as she turned back to Mrs Reynolds, who was wearing a broad smile.

"Yes, you were quite a sight when you returned to the house that day."

"You were a mess, Mrs Darcy, you even had it up your nose," Darcy guffawed. "But enough of strawberries, for there will not be any until next year, and then it will be wise to plant double, if not triple." Elizabeth smiled, she always had a fondness for the succulent fruit and the master had been witness to her weakness of it several times in London, so knew her tendency had not passed as a child's fad.

The other servants were introduced including Hannah and Roger, who had arrived a few minutes after the Darcys carriage. She turned to look further along the line and noticed the Hills and Betsy. "Oh, Mr Darcy, you persuaded them to join us here. Thank you."

"It was nothing. It transpired that Collins was about to throw them onto the streets; they received my request just before they departed. Had it arrived a day or two later they would not have received my note."

After they had completed the introductions, the newlyweds took the steps at the entrance, but as they reached the top step, Darcy grabbed his wife behind the knees and lifted her into his arms once more. "Fitzwilliam! Please put me down!" she squealed. The throng of servants behind all cheered and clapped with delight as the couple disappeared through the doorway.

The weather had turned decidedly cooler than a few days previous, so Darcy carried his wife into the parlour where a fire had been lit. The servants had made themselves scarce, as per the master's written instructions from the week previous. "I believe you may put me down now, Fitzwilliam."

"I could not resist. You should have realised I would do that."

"But you had already saved me in London. I did not think that the ghouls would attempt kidnapping your bride once we had… well, you know. I thought it was only unsullied virgins who had to be aware of these so-called family demons."

" _Oh, they are here too, and they do not care who they grab. This lot is far worse though, as they lay dormant under the bed, waiting for the new wife to dangle her feet precariously over the sides of the mattress. Even when you are in slumber, they keenly wait with baited breath on the edge of the shadows. It would do you well to stay under my protection during the nights from now on unless you want your ankles grabbed."_

"Oh, yes? And your gallantry has nothing to do with having a warm, soft body to please you at night?"

"You will appreciate me in the winter months," he purred.

"And what of the late summer months?"

"I do not know. Maybe we could go upstairs and find out?"

"But it is only four o'clock!"

"And?" Darcy cocked his brow in an attempt to challenge his wife.

"Fitzwilliam, we cannot be seen heading to our bedchambers for a private moment when we have only just arrived. What would everyone think?"

"Only a moment? I know that I can be passionate, but I am no double dipping wonderment."

"A what?"

"A… Oh, it does not matter. It is one of Richard's terms, and I should not have defiled your pretty ears with such vulgarity."

"Oh, dear!" she chuckled. "I think I just comprehended your meaning." She blushed in her understanding that he referred to a husband who was too quick to complete and left his wife bereft.

"So, are we to _freshen up?_ I would imagine the whole day spent travelling on a dusty road would safely guarantee we would end up feeling rather… grubby. Do you not think? All that dust, dirt and sweat."

"I do not sweat… I glow," she pouted.

"You sweat like the rest of us, my dear, and _your glow_ is not unwelcoming, especially if it had been created by my very hands."

"Fitzwilliam, shoosh!" Elizabeth chastised as she heard footsteps approach outside in the vestibule.

"They will not enter. I have told the staff to leave us in private unless the house is under attack from the French army, and then they are to knock."

"How do they know that? You have not been out of my company since we arrived?"

"I sent correspondence to Mrs Reynolds last week. Hence the welcoming party."

"What party? Oh, all the staff outside to greet us?"

"No, the party tonight. I have allowed the servants to celebrate our marriage this evening and we must make an appearance, but first, bed!"

"Now?"

"Yes! Now! Wife! It feels like I have not had you in days."

"You had me this morning. And there was you saying earlier in the week that you would not take me in a traveller's Inn. Within two hours, your decision had upended itself and turned half circle." Elizabeth moved closer and rubbed her cheek against his in an attempt to entice. She whispered, "Maybe we could _freshen up_ for an hour or so now after all. Then we will need to attend this… party."

"I think that would work to our advantage? The festivities will start at around seven, and I have allowed them to use the ballroom for their entertainment with a few kegs of ale and food. We can spend time together and then have dinner in our private sitting room, which will only be a cold collation. Afterwards, we can join them in the celebrations."

"Are we expected to remain for long?"

"I leave that decision to the mistress. We can attend for some duration if that is your wish, but there is no need to stay all evening in their company. I am sure the staff will behave themselves without my supervision, and Mrs Reynolds and Mr Stoker will be present to curb any mischief."

"They may appreciate a dance; I would like to play a reel or two as I doubt you would allow just anyone to touch such an instrument. I assume there is a pianoforte in the ballroom?"

"Yes, the staff know not to touch the instrument, and they would appreciate your skill on the keys, although I believe at least one plays the fiddle. I know some of the maids attend the village dance once a month on their day off. They are no strangers to the Dancing Master, so it may do well to stick to the likes of Grimstock and Fandango."

"And the men?"

"I doubt they would care what you play, so long as they have a pretty lady on their arm, but no waltzes, Elizabeth."

"Oh, heaven forbid! I would scandalise the household with such a risqué choice. We shall stay but an hour or two, long enough for them to not think me a force of nature. I do hope not to be one of these formidable mistresses that everyone cowers to."

"But neither can you be their friend. I know you had a soft spot for the Hills and Betsy in particular, but you cannot be so familiar with them here. Shows of affection cannot be permitted unless they are upon your husband and in private," he smiled.

"I will try, although it will be difficult. I understand that as mistress I have to act without favouritism. Although, I am quite taken with Hannah already."

"Your maid? That is acceptable as she will be your confident and secret keeper. Mrs Reynolds has already instructed the new staff not to call you Miss Lizzy."

"How do you know they called me that?" she chuckled.

"Oh, just a guess. Your mention of them and how you grew up; I could not see it any other way."

"No one calls me Lizzy anymore. Not even you."

"And you do not call me Fitzy, although I would cringe at its use now."

"Oh, I do not know, _Mr Fitzy-Witzy Fussy-Wussy Pants,_ " Elizabeth jeered.

"Watch your tongue, wife, for that threat of a spank is still looming." Elizabeth's heart began to pound; he had not mentioned that particular forewarning since their breakfast at Darcy house. Was he inclined to follow up on his challenge, even if it was intended as an act of intimacy rather than punishment? She found herself quite taken with the idea; naked and stretched across his lap as he stroked her bottom just before the sting. She licked her lips imagining that moment, her eyes alight with the anticipation of the act, but was brought out of her reverie with a sharp intake of breath from her husband. Had he realised what she was thinking? _Good Lord! What is happening to me?_

* * *

After partaking of tea, Darcy escorted Elizabeth up the grand staircase. She had remembered this part of the house, with its richly painted walls and ceiling depicting scenes from the life of Julius Caesar. The intricate balustrade, which ran along one side of the upper floor stood in front of large imposing windows that flooded light across the whole vestibule, making the colours in the masterpieces come to life.

"Who painted all these wonderful murals?" she asked as she stopped on the larger middle stair tread and looked around.

"Most are by Luigi Laguerre; there are others by Monnoyer and Bogdány. Come, I will show you our rooms," Darcy stated as he held out his hand, eager to get to their destination.

They continued to climb the stairs until they reached the third floor and Elizabeth's heart began to pound in her chest; the anticipation was acute. Darcy stopped by an impressive set of double doors, heavy yet intricate in their mouldings. He advised that they stood before her bedchambers and that the next door was his suite. The layout was not dissimilar to that of Darcy house with a sitting room in between; that room only being accessible from within. The bathing area was to the side of each bedchamber and boasted of quite an impressive bathtub.

"Close your eyes, my darling," he asked. On their closure, he led his wife into her suite and was bid to open them when they reached the middle of the room. She instantly noticed the large imposing bed before her. "Lord! It is bigger than my bed at Darcy house!"

Darcy hummed his appreciation of the sizeable fourposter as he came up behind her and nuzzled her neck. "Oh, my darling, I want you so much. We have not a moment to lose," he almost growled.

"Lock the doors," was her simple answer.

Darcy strode towards the door to the sitting room and turned the key. Then to the dressing room door, where Hannah was unpacking her mistresses trunks and without any unease on his part, he shut the door and locked it knowing the maid could return downstairs via the servant's entrance. Elizabeth ensured the door leading back into the corridor was locked, but as she turned she found her husband situated so close that she could not move; his body contiguous to hers and the air redolence with lust. His arms ascended either side to flank her shoulders, where he pressed his palms flat to the door and his body to hers; he had captured her in his enfold, and he was adamant he would not let her go. "Can you feel me, Elizabeth?" he gently asked as he took her hostage and began to pepper kisses on any visible flesh he could reach. Her answer was but a groan, for how could she respond when such delights had been administered, rendering her speechless. "I want you, here, now, against this wall."

"Would the bed not be more comfortable, sir," she whimpered. "Although, I do not think I could make it across such an expanse of space, for my legs are rather unsteady."

At this, Darcy grabbed her skirts and rucked them up her body, where he pushed them into his wife's hands. Elizabeth did not understand what was happening until he grasped her thighs and pulled her separated limbs around him and so lifting her off of the floor.

"Good Lord! Is this how they take the wenches in brothels?" she squealed.

"I would not know, but it is how I am going to take you," he commanded. "Take me out and put me inside of you, sweetling."

Elizabeth fumbled around until she found the fastenings to his breaches; loosening the buttons as quickly as her shaking hands could manage, she grabbed him eagerly, but as she did he blenched. "Please be gentle, my darling. Otherwise, I will ruin this moment and finish all too soon." With a bit of a bungle, then a shift in Darcy's grip of his wife, he had impaled her soft cranny. Her back thud against the door as Darcy pushed as far as he could before grinding his loin into her quim; his groan manifested from deep in his throat as he felt the warmth flood across him. Elizabeth tightened the grip of her legs around him; her hands naturally found their place upon his shoulders, and there she was able to remove her weight from his grasp. Taking advantage of her vice-like grip around his waist and the support of her hands, he moved his own to her rump, where he groped each cheek with such gravity that the tips of his fingers would most certainly have left a blushed mark in their midst. The abiding interjections of Darcy's tarse into his wife's softness, while pinned to the wall, felt shockingly concupiscent. His physical assault upon her nether-region had introduced wetness so apparent that the aqueous sound of their copulation filled the room. Its music seemed to be an aria of lovers, a song of his siren, and his wife's harmonious appreciation of his skill. This small, yet significant reaction drove him on. "Oh, Elizabeth, you are so lush and wet; you drive me to distraction."

Elizabeth could not answer, for she was too overcome with such a maddening sense of rapture that all she could do was bite his lip, which brought on such enthusiasm from Darcy that it threatened the stability of the wooden structure they were leaning against, for it creaked and snarled at each rhythmic assault.

"Ma'am? Is anything amiss?" It was Hannah in the corridor. Elizabeth was so shocked to hear someone call her amidst coital pleasures, that she could not reply. They both did not move for fear the maid would understand exactly what was occurring. It would not do well for the master and mistress to be caught in such a way within two hours of entering the house.

"Ma'am?" the maid asked again with concern.

"There is nothing wrong with the mistress, Hannah, go about your duties," Darcy finally commanded. His voice was firm, even slightly rough, but it did not help that at that moment, his wife saw fit to flex her inner muscles; an act which would almost launch him into another bout of feverishness. He could do nothing but close his eyes and grit his teeth, for he was already on the brink of that rapturous moment.

As the steps diminished outside, the master carried his wife to the bed, where Darcy continued to worship her in a far gentler manner and without any impediment from the outside world.


	21. What the Chambermaid Saw

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It was quite early when Darcy attempted to wake Elizabeth from her sleep. The sun had just shown itself over the horizon, creating a golden glow across the bright blue sky, giving promise of a glorious day. "Wake up, Elizabeth," he coaxed gently.

"Mm... It is too early, go away," she grumbled as her hand swiped through the air until she blindly batted her husband's chin.

"Hey! You struck me, wife," he laughed as he caught her fingers in his and kissed her knuckles, hoping it would stir her somewhat. "It is just after six o'clock, and I am about to rise. That's it… open those pretty eyes of yours, come on sleepy head. I have to deal with some estate matters today and thought you would want to say good morning before I left. Or we could take a quick walk in the gardens before I see the steward if you are up to it?... At least, can I have a kiss?" he added the last in desperation.

"But we did not get to bed until four hours ago," she grumbled into her pillow. "I am far too compliant with your needs, Mr Darcy. It would not do you harm to leave me be for once and let me sleep," she added as she attempted to burrow herself back under the safety of the counterpane. Darcy, however, was having none of it as he took delight in explaining what happened the night before in order to keep his wife awake.

" _We did not get to bed until then because the mistress of the house had stayed with her staff for most of the evening and into the early hours. She was such a success on the pianoforte that everyone wanted her to continue, even though her husband did not. What should have been two or three tunes, turned into a whole concert, but it did not end until she had taken several pauses in her performance in order to carouse. She was past her best and well on the way to being stewed before she had played her last piece, which she did very poorly, I may add. Then, to everyone's surprise, the mistress of Pemberley fell asleep on one of the settees in the vestibule! I have never seen such a spectacle, but Edward and Hannah found her curled up and in the land of Nod and mumbling sweetly. I had no choice other than to carry her upstairs in front of everyone. I did not think I would be playing lady's maid yet again, but I found myself in that position once more for I could not call upon Hannah, as she was enjoying herself far too much with her evening's celebrations to interrupt. My abilities as the mistresses abigail was a struggle, and I am afraid her gown may have paid a heavy price."_

"She told me it was not the grog, but the day spent travelling, then _someone_ set upon her as soon as she reached her rooms hoping to retire, but _someone_ was demanding his pleasures," she mumbled.

" _I did not! I thought I was rather… controlled last evening, but now I find myself deprived in that direction and may have to join the beggarhood of man in order to plead for your attention once more," he confessed as he stroked his fingers along her arms in the hopes to stir her passion._

She opened one eye to see what he was about and was faced with her harrier's smugness. "Fitzwilliam, you are an incurable romantic, but you are no subtle seducer," she chuckled. "I hope you are caring enough for your poor wife and allow her just one more hour of rest, or if you show her extreme kindness and allow another two, she will be exceedingly grateful when she does wake for the day," she crooned.

"You are bargaining with me‽ I, a man of the ton‽" Darcy asked in feigned shock.

"Yes, I am. You are my husband first and foremost; I do not care that you are in the top circles of society and boast of owning half of Derbyshire. You are just a man, flesh and blood, like the rest of them."

" _Really? So, if I were a pauper and put you to work, you would not be vexed at your new lot in life?"_

"We would not need to work if you invested my dowry. In the five percents, it would have brought about a thousand pounds a year."

"What if I gambled it away and then made you scrub floors?"

"Fitzwilliam? What are you on about?"

"I do not know, I thought I was appealing for favours," he laughed.

"Two hours."

"Half an hour," Darcy counter-demanded.

"We are still on our honeymoon. Am I to be pulled from my sleep at such an early hour?" Elizabeth's voice softened to flirtations whilst teasing the hairs on his chest. "Remember I have been keeping town hours for the past few months. At least give me a week to adapt to the early mornings of the country and for us to retire at a very decent hour. Say, eight in the evening? You will then have my undivided attention before I succumb to sleep, please." He did not say a word. "Pretty please?" He smiled and pulled her to him.

She snuggled back into his embrace, and Darcy could do no more than settle again in the hopes that his steward would not be too put out with a couple of hours delay. Within a few minutes, both were back in their slumbers where they stayed for a further three hours.

* * *

"Fitzwilliam! It has gone nine!" Elizabeth sat up in bed with a shock when she saw the clock on the mantlepiece.

"What?" he grumbled.

"The time! The time!"

"What about the time? Come back here, Elizabeth," he beckoned as he pulled her shoulder back down onto the pillow.

"I thought you wanted to get up. You did not wake me."

" _I am sorry. I do not possess such a device as a water clock like the ancient Greeks, so that it may wake us both at a specific hour. I would have one installed, but I doubt you would appreciate the sound of running water all night long. The chamberpot would be full to the brim by the time dawn came calling."_

"I do not use it that often."

"You do. You got up twice in the night."

"That is because I drank so much ale, and before you say it, I am not a swill tub," she retaliated jovially.

"No, you are a delight, my sweet. And I hope you will do good with your end of the bargain."

"What bargain?" She furrowed her brow trying to remember what she had agreed to through the haze of a foggy brain. "Fitzwilliam, I do not remember."

"You were the instigator of an advantageous deal, although you were not quite conscious when you made it. You agreed to attend to me if I gave you more time to sleep," he said as he stretched out on his back and pulled the covers away, and so exposing himself. _"Come, wench."_

During the most crucial moment of their intimacy, one of the chambermaids entered the room. Darcy caught sight of her in his peripheral vision, as Elizabeth was taking her pleasures and on doing so urged her husband into coital completion. "GET OUT!" he growled between grunts as he released his seed. He could not stop, as he had passed that point when his wife had quivered beneath him. The chambermaid saw him grimace and stiffen just as he discharged his potency's reward into his wife's depths.

The chambermaid, shocked on seeing her master in such a state with his wife beneath him, ran out crying; Darcy buried his head in Elizabeth's neck and sighed out his frustrations. "What is it with these maids‽ First, Hannah yesterday and now Mary this morning. Are we to get no privacy around here‽ I am sorry, sweetling, you should not have been subject to such invasion of our privacy," he panted as he rolled off of her. "I will have to dismiss her now."

There was a few moments silence, whilst both got their breaths back, then Elizabeth responded,"Do not be so tough on the girl, Fitzwilliam. The servants probably thought we were in my room, as the door to the corridor is still locked from yesterday afternoon. We left to go downstairs via your room, remember."

"Oh, Lord! I just realised I was even grunting like a boar and right in the middle of..." Darcy flinched, then hid his face from the world with his hands. "She should not have done what she did; it is a rule in this house. The servants have to knock before entering, and only enter if there is no response to a second request."

"But we were both rather preoccupied, so maybe she did knock more than once. I will have a word with her to ensure she does in future. It will be easier for a woman to approach the matter, and the household is the mistresses responsibility after all. I do not care for her to be dismissed when it was probably a simple mistake."

"If you insist. Her name is Mary Fletcher; ask Mrs Reynolds to have her come to you. I think we will have to make some new rules; maybe no one should enter the bedchambers unless the bell has been pulled or we have physically answered the door."

" _What about when we are in the bathtub? You cannot do anything from there unless your arms are ten feet long."_

"Bathtub?" his grin was vast. "Well, we will just have to lock the doors."

" _And what if I were to attend you in your study, during the day?"_

"Oh, that is an idea. I had not thought about a midday rendezvous. That door can be locked too," Darcy thought aloud whilst biting his lip in contemplation. "You could request afternoon tea to be brought to us there, and I can have you then… across my desk."

"Fitzwilliam! I will be walking around with an unusual gate if you continue like this."

"Yes, and you will have a permanent reminder between your legs," he laughed but stopped when his wife started to get out of bed.

"Where are you going?"

"It is now gone ten o'clock. I thought you had business to attend to, plus I have a rather distraught maid to see. I cannot leave her in such a state for too long."

Darcy lounged back on the pillows with his hands behind his head, watching his wife parade around the room, collecting her clothes which he had so unceremoniously dropped the night before. "Fitzwilliam, you have ripped my dress!" she frowned. "I will have to see if Hannah can fix it, although it is torn at the shoulder and not at the seam," she stated remembering Darcy's frustration when he could not deal with the small fastenings in a poor light, so attempted to yank the shoulders down her arms.

 _Blasted fastenings! Why so many, and so small?_ He had cursed. _Rip!_

"Get another one. Write to Madame de Bois and ask her to replace it. On second thoughts, get two to be on the safe side, I like you in deep red," he stated happily as Elizabeth had chosen to wear such an intense colour for the festivities, whilst in half mourning.

"I will need to have a fitting."

"They keep all that sort of information, and I'm sure she can obtain more of that fabric from the warehouses, it has not been that long. The modiste can send the parcel here and any alterations Hannah can handle."

"And what am I to say? _My new husband ripped the garment from me?_ _" she laughed._

"I am sure no explanation is required; she has probably had plenty of brides asking for replacements because their husbands have been too amorous for their own good. I just wanted to get you safely into bed."

"And your libido had nothing to do with it?"

"It may have, but I behaved. I could see you were not up to it, even though you tempt me so."

" _Oh, do I tempt you?"_ she asked as she shimmied her shoulders and so allowing her credentials to take motion.

 _Oh, dear Lord!_ he thought. _I need her again!_

"You know you do. I cannot look at you without feeling… out of sorts and your actions just now has made me quite…" he smirked as he got out of bed.

Elizabeth knew that she would not take her leave if her husband caught her, so there was only one thing to do, and that was to flee from the room, and so she did in a fit of giggles.

"Elizabeth! Come back!"

* * *

Whilst Darcy was with Mr Jones, Elizabeth had decided to take a tour of the grounds as she understood from Hannah that Mary had gone into Lambton to pick up some supplies. The gardens were, for the time of year, still quite beautiful. The late summer flowers had bloomed, all filling the air with a sweet perfume. The clump of hazelnut trees near the lake had already shown signs of bronzing of its leaves due to the intensity of the warm, dry spring months of that year.

She came to a quaint bridge that crossed the lake situated to the side of the house, at a point where a babbling brook fed a more substantial body of water. The rippling sound was enough to soothe one's spirits if she ever found herself in high dudgeon and thought that if she were ever in need of a tranquil calmness, she would venture out to take sanctuary amongst its soothing ambience. The general aspect of the crossing was magical with the billowing willow tree, which partially overhung the pathway. The bridge itself must have been built around the same time as the house, as it bore similar masonry to the main building. The lake itself seemed to be very well situated, and Elizabeth knew that she would spend many an hour walking these paths each morning, even if her mood was not in need of pacifying.

She strolled further along the path towards the trees, which formed the edge of a woodland surrounding the open grounds. When she reached its boundary, she noticed something odd. Venturing over to the trunk of a large oak tree, she was surprised to see the initials, EB and FD naively carved into the bark around four foot up from its base with 1796 underneath. It was weathered to some degree but still bore a legible mark.

She returned to the house in search of her husband, who was found in his study. "Fitzwilliam, I have just discovered our initials on a tree along the far pathway."

"Oh! I had forgotten about that. I carved it just after you left here in '96," Darcy chuckled as he recollected those childhood days. "Father was not very impressed when one of the gardeners advised him of my mischief. I remember being sent to my rooms for the rest of the day and not allowed out into the grounds for a full month on my own as punishment," he laughed.

"I hope he was not angry with me."

"No, not at all. I advised father that I had done it the day after you left, so knew you were not a vandal too."

"He did not call you a vandal‽" Elizabeth was surprised.

"Not in so many words, but he did say that my behaviour was that of a vagabond destroying anything that was beautiful. I had thought I had made a beautiful impression upon the tree. Father wanted it removed, but I persuaded him to leave it be."

"How did you do that?"

"By saying I would just do it again until he left it alone. I must admit I got a slap for that, but he left the bark well alone."

"Why did you stop writing to me?" Elizabeth asked. She thought it a good a time as any to inquire.

"I am embarrassed to say. I was no longer a boy, Elizabeth. I was growing into a man and was doing things young men do, who are discovering adulthood. I wish now that I had not discarded your words so easily. We could have kept in contact all this time, but I made a blunder of cutting you off." Elizabeth blanched. She pondered on the notion that he had been playing around with the local girls in an amorous way and he felt uncomfortable at her reaction. He knew what she was thinking. "No! I was not… Elizabeth, do not think what I believe you are thinking. I became rather a flirt with the local girls, but that was all. There is only so much a young adolescent can do, even when they are the squire's son. I was honour bound to the Darcy name, and I could not be seen dallying in a lecherous manner; my father would have killed me. My actions consisted of throwing grass into passing girls hair, without them knowing. I had climbed the horse chestnut tree on the green, near the smithy, and dropped it from a great height. It was a joke as they would spend the rest of the day with their hair looking… disorderly, or until they discovered it. Another time I would lean down and grab their ribbons and tug to get their attention. I once jeered at the baker's daughter, but she threw a stone at me, which nearly knocked me out. Father was told of this incident, of course. Mrs Reynolds discovered the gash on my head when I returned home and had to call the doctor. Then father made enquiries in Lambton, only to discover from the postmaster, what I had been up to. I was confined to the estate and only in view of the house for the rest of the summer."

Bringing himself out of his memories, he continued. "I am afraid I have to go back to see Mr Jones after nuncheon. It would be beneficial for you to get familiar with the rooms. I have a set of keys here, but they are in rather a muddled bunch. I believe Mrs Reynolds may have a spare chatelaine, which I should have asked for when she gave them to me. I will request it of her later if she still has it."

"I can do that, Fitzwilliam, do not trouble yourself on my account."

"It is no trouble, my dear."

"I can find my way to the housekeeper's room easily enough. It will be beneficial as the more I spend moving about the house, the quicker I will get to know the place again. I will talk to Mary at the same time."

"Have her come to you. You do not need to go below stairs."

"No I do not, but it will be easy enough to have a chat with her in the housekeeper's office without anyone knowing. I also wish to see how the kitchen runs. I like to know how the internal mechanics work and not just appreciate its benefits."

"I suppose, but do not be too long as they need to get on with their duties."

"I will bear that in mind. Do not fret over this morning, husband, I will treat our meeting quite casually, and no one will know." She placed a kiss on Darcy's cheek before leaving him to his business.

* * *

About a half an hour after nuncheon, Elizabeth went in search of Mrs Reynolds. The housekeeper was found in her room, which was situated on the ground floor just near the stairs leading to the kitchen. Mrs Reynolds was taken aback at seeing the mistress in that part of the building. She had never known the previous Mrs Darcy enter the lower levels unless she had prearranged a visit. "Ma'am! What brings you here? Is there anything wrong?"

"Oh, no, Mrs Reynolds. I just have a couple of things I need to do. Firstly, do you have something for these keys? Mr Darcy recommended a chatelaine if you have a spare."

Mrs Reynolds started to rummage around in her drawer for a spare set of chains. "Here you go, ma'am. They are not very decent but should tide you over. I think maybe the master should have a nicer set made for you by the jewellers in Chester."

Elizabeth nodded, then enquired, "I was also wondering if it was possible that I could have a private word with Mary Fletcher, the chambermaid?"

"Yes of course," she said with a worried brow forming.

Seeing her expression, Elizabeth elaborated, "Everything is as it should be, Mrs Reynolds. I just would like a little talk, if that is agreeable."

Mrs Reynolds would never deny the mistress anything, so left to fetch the maid. Five minutes later Mary entered the room. "Sit down Mary, do not be upset. I am not angry with you, but I need to understand why you came into the bedchambers this morning, whilst we were there."

"I'm really sorry, Mrs Darcy. I were told you was both in the other room, and I did knock twice, but there were no answer, so I just entered. It's the done thing, ya' know."

Elizabeth looked at the girl and noticed her hands, which were cracked and sore. It was difficult to imagine her being able to hold anything let alone do her work.

"What has happened to your hands, Mary?"

"My skin burned when I used the lye solution earlier in the week. We need it for cleaning the bedding."

"Can you not use anything else?"

"No, miss. Mrs Reynolds insists on it, but think it was made way too strong this time."

"Knock on this desk, will you," Elizabeth requested.

Mary tapped gently on the desk as her hands were so sore. "Anything more would be a pain, ma'am."

"Is that how you knocked on our door this morning?"

"Yes, I can't do it any louder due to the open wounds, ya' see," Mary replied as she bent her knuckles to show Elizabeth the open raw gashes.

"I am going to request you see a doctor. You cannot continue with your duties in that state. I will let Mr Darcy know the situation as I am sure he will be understanding once he knows. However, I would ask that you stay well out of his way for a while. He was not happy at all this morning, and I managed to stop him from dismissing you… And another suggestion is to tap with the tip of your boot in future if your hands are bad."

Mary nodded and thanked Elizabeth before returning to her duties. Elizabeth asked Mrs Reynolds to have the doctor see to Mary's hands immediately, but for the time being, she was to be given lighter responsibilities.

* * *

The kitchen was a hive of activity when the mistress descended the stairs, but as she was in that area of the house, she thought she would pay a visit. They were not expecting her, and when cook noticed, she almost dropped the large copper pan she was holding onto her foot.

"Mistress! What brings you down here?" the cook said as she curtseyed.

"Good day, Julia. I have just come to have a look around if that is acceptable."

Julia, the cook, just nodded her head in approval and showed the mistress around the kitchen and pantry.

"Do you know where Betsy and Mrs Hill are?"

"Ma'am, they are out at the moment getting some items from Lambton. The shopkeeper got our orders wrong this morning, and the girls came back with the wrong goods, although I think that Mary had a bit of a turn this morning, so may have given the wrong instructions."

Elizabeth spent a further half an hour talking to the servants and then returned to the main house, knowing that she should not take up any more of their time.

Later that evening in the servant's hall, Mrs Darcy's visit was the topic of conversation around the table at supper. "So Julia, what did mistress say to you?" said Sarah, one of the scullery maids.

"I showed her around the kitchen and the pantry. I will need to find out from someone what her favourite meals are. Maybe when Mrs Reynolds does the weekly menus with her, she can ask. I must say that last night, and this morning she was very pleasing and don't mind getting involved. She's nothing like these hoity-toity ladies of the so-called Ton. I mean, compared to that Miss Bingley, she is an angel. Could you imagine the master marrying that harpy woman, we would all be dismissed for being… well, being just us." Julia explained.

"Yes, she is very approachable," Betsy interjected. "I, along with my parents, were her servants at Longbourn with the old Mr Bennet. It was a very small estate, and there were only us three servants plus the stable hands. Mrs Darcy used to engage us every day and help with the chores. She is not shy of a hard day's graft."

"I did not realise you were under her employment. I just thought master had hired you as additional hands because of his return on a more permanent basis," said Julia.

"No, we were the old servants at Longbourn. It was such a sad occasion when Mr Bennet passed, and Mrs Darcy was virtually thrown out of her home. The property was left to a distant cousin, not by Mr Bennet's choice I may add. We realised pretty soon after he moved his things in that we were for the chop too; he had bought his own people. Luckily, the mistress had already asked the master to take us on, and so here we are."

"That poor thing, having to lose a parent and then her home. I'm so glad she found the master, and she can start a new life here," Hannah signed.

"Oh, she knew the master from childhood. I believe my father, Mr Hill, remembered the old Mr Bennet mentioning their time at Pemberley when the mistress was around five or six years old. I don't remember much as I was a tot myself," said Betsy.

"They knew each other?" Julia asked. "Thinking about it, I must have been a kitchen hand at the time, and Mrs Preston was the cook. I was but fourteen and learning the recipes from her. I remember a Lizzy now you have mentioned it; she was a little thing with a mass of curls. Yes, it is her! There is a resemblance," Julia cried out. "Oh, they are childhood sweethearts, how wonderful!"

"I am glad master married her. She will do very nicely as our mistress," Hannah concluded.

With that, the servant's conversation then progressed onto the usual gossips such as who was seen in the village holding hands and if Mrs Dreyfuss, the butcher's wife, was knocked up yet again.

* * *

Meanwhile, back upstairs, Elizabeth was explaining Mary's situation with her husband. "I requested a doctor come and see her, Fitzwilliam. Her hands are raw and bleeding. Mrs Reynolds advised me later this afternoon that the doctor has given her an ointment to use and recommended she wear some special gloves in future when doing her duties, but part of those duties is the laundry. I have requested she be taken off of those and put to other tasks for the time being. I will also need to investigate as to why the lye was so strong and whether they need to get a fresh supply, which will not be so corrosive. I have given Mrs Reynolds permission to purchase two sets of gloves for the time being as they are rather expensive."

"I shouldn't have been so hard on her when I shouted," Darcy sighed. "But it was a shock to see her standing there. I suppose we were lucky it was not Roger, for I would have thrown him out on his ear if he saw you naked."

Elizabeth shook her head in dismay. "I told Mary to keep out of your way for a while, so you should see less of her."

"You are such a diplomat when it comes to this sort of thing." Then Darcy leant in and kissed his wife. "Shall we retire and pick up where we left off this morning, my dear?"


	22. A Woman's Lot

-0-

Elizabeth woke during the night with a sharp pain in her stomach. She knew instantly what was occurring; that her menses would have likely commenced, and discovered it to be the truth upon checking.

Without causing her husband to stir, she rose and repaired to the dressing room in order to attend to her needs with haste. She had already pre-warned Hannah of her impending courses and preparations had been made for the items to be available, whenever the mistress required them.

She despised the garment she had to wear. If it wasn't annoying enough that fashion demanded she squeezed herself into her stays each day, she had to forfeit the sense of freedom in favour of feeling like a trussed up chicken, waiting for the pot. It was cumbersome, and she knew that if her husband were to embrace her, he would feel its presence. She knew she would have little choice other than to advise Darcy as soon as he woke the following morning of her now indisposed state. This was something she was not looking forward to, for the humiliation of such a discussion with one's husband had started to cause untold anxieties just thinking about it, which brought on a near fit of the vapours.

She dressed in her nightgown and wrapped her thick robe around herself before returning to bed. Then, when she spotted the counterpane pushed to the footboard, she wrapped that around her as well.

When morning came, Darcy was rather baffled at the multiple layers his wife was buried under. "Elizabeth, what on earth? Are you so cold that you need to cocoon yourself in such a way?" he said as he woke. "I should call for the maid to stoke a fire if you are not warm enough… Although, it is quite warm in here already," he added thinking that it was only September and still experiencing mild weather.

"No! I am… I have…" she blushed profusely. "I have my… oh, dear. Fitzwilliam, what did we discuss about my being indisposed?"

"Are you ill? Do you wish for me to ask Mrs Reynolds to call a doctor?" he stated, not determining the meaning of his wife's words.

"No, I have my monthly courses." There, she said it. She thought her cheeks could not heat any more than they already had, but Elizabeth could sense the fever upon her skin as she further contemplated her embarrassment. Darcy just laughed at her bashfulness and attempted to pull her into his embrace, but his humour stopped when she pushed him away. "No!"

"What? Can I not even embrace you now?" He saw the fright in her eyes and could not comprehend why his wife was acting so aloof all of a sudden. "Elizabeth? You cannot tell me you do not wish for me to hold you in my arms."

"I do not wish for you to touch me. I feel… ugly."

"You are not; it is part of being a woman. Surely you do not feel so harsh towards your own body."

"It is all well and good for you to say; men do not have to deal with this wretched sufferance us women have to endure. It is such an abomination."

" _An abomination?"_ he smiled, his humour restored at his wife's silliness. "I am sure you are over exaggerating. Have you always felt like this?"

"No," she pouted. "It is just that I have never been in a situation where I am so close, physically, to a man and have had no choice other than to let him know what has befallen me. I did not wish for you to be privy to the circumstances, but there was nothing for it, but to tell you."

"So, are you to remain in such an adornment of fabric for the whole two days? _Do you wish for me to get one of the footmen to build some sort of tent over the bed so that you can hibernate for the duration?_ _"_ He watched his wife as her moue turned to utter sadness. He then realised he had misjudged the situation and mocking her present quandary was not the way to go, not when she was so out of sorts that his jesting would not bring her any comfort.

Elizabeth could not comprehend how she was to explain her sudden apprehension? It was not as if she had only just experienced the menses, for they had been present each month for years. "Sweetheart, do you wish for me to leave?" Although well intended, this was not the correct thing to ask, for at that moment, she burst into tears. As he attempted to comfort her again, she pushed him away, and the frustration that she bore over her foolish behaviour had discombobulated her further, for even though she longed to be comforted, she did not wish to be held. Therefore, another bout of tears made an appearance. "So you do not wish me to leave, but neither can I hold you." She nodded, unable to speak. _"_ _Shall I get my pillows from my bed and place them down the middle, so that it creates a barricade?"_ he asked jovially, but his wife nodded in agreement. He brushed the hair from her forehead and leaned forward, but she flinched. "I am only going to kiss you, sweetling, that is all," he said as he placed a tender kiss upon her brow.

Darcy rose for the day and so allowed his wife to remain in bed as she desired solitude for a few hours. "I will see you at nuncheon. I will instruct Mrs Reynolds that we will take our meal in our private sitting room so that you do not need to dress or come downstairs. Would that suit you?"

She nodded, but added, "I suppose you think I am ludicrous."

"I think you are just being sensitive. I will not play judge or jury on the matter, and I can see that your own reaction has taken you by surprise; I do not think you anticipated the position it has put you in.

"All this is new, and it will take a while to get used to each other, my dear. I know we have been intimate several times, but this is all unfamiliar to the both of us. But, Elizabeth, remember that I am your husband, and I do not wish for you to be scared of my proximity when you are like this. Remember our vows, for better or worse, in sickness and in health," he stated but dared not mention loved and cherished. Although he had love for her in abundance, he was concerned that his current state of emotions would not be returned and the state of unrequited love would glare out, so obvious within their relationship, that he felt it would sit there, mocking him, for all its worth.

How foolish Darcy was, for the one thing that Elizabeth desired most was the comfort of a loving man, someone to bestow such affection and to cherish her as if she were a delicate flower. She had spent most of her adult life reading romantic novels which became her life's bible, and she longed for the same devotion that the dashing hero had for its heroine; a heartfelt gut-wrenching love that would stoke their burning desires for the rest of their lives. Elizabeth had yet to realise it, but she had been gradually falling so deeply in love with her husband since their first acquaintance but was unable to comprehend the feelings that he provoked in her. This last show of kindness to her only added to increase that devotion, for he could have just demanded she did her wifely duties, regardless of whether or not she was indisposed.

She looked up at the man in front of her, so concerned for her wellbeing, that it brought a lump to her throat, threatening another wave of sobs. "I will try, Fitzwilliam, I will try," she spoke softly.

* * *

For the following two days, all meals were taken in the sitting room, but on the second evening, Elizabeth was well enough to join her husband at the dinner table in the smaller dining room. Darcy was surprised to see her dressed in a rather fetching dress; although its colour was of a dark muted rose, the cut was rather fetching, and the embroidery gave the dark ensemble a prettiness. "Are you well?" he asked.

"Not quite, husband. But I am well enough to enjoy your company this evening." Darcy inwardly frowned; it had been nearly two days, and he felt the distance between them immensely. It was not just the lack of coital intimacy that he craved, but to hold her in his arms and place a tender buss or two upon her lips. Elizabeth knew that her predicament was nearly over and in all honesty, she could have attended to him that evening, but felt a few more hours would not do her husband harm, and it would guarantee all evidence was gone before he took her once more. She had her plan, and she was sticking to it.

—

The following morning, the mistress woke before her husband. She was resolute that once he knew that their coitus sabbatical was now at an end, he would want favours in abundance. His looks during the previous evening's meal almost made Elizabeth retract her original claim, but she allowed her inner impertinence to play merrily with his torment and relished at the signs of his self-imposed agony. _Only a few more hours, my dear husband, then I am yours,_ she remembered.

After seeing to her needs and ensuring there were no lingering signs of her previous state, she instructed Hannah to fill the bath for both herself and her husband before going back to bed. Darcy was still asleep and oblivious to what was happening in the next room when Elizabeth determined a gentle tap on the door. This indicated that everything had been prepared and the maid had left the room. "Fitzwilliam, wake up."

"Huh?"

"Time to get up and have a bath."

"What do you mean 'have a bath'? You are turning into Roger," he said sluggishly. "I do not need a bath, I had one last night," he grumbled before trying to return to his sleep.

"No. I thought you would like to share a bath with me, in my dressing room. It is all filled up, piping hot. We can have some time together… Alone… In the bathtub," she said with much enticement and then sat back, waiting for him to comprehend her meaning.

It took Darcy a few seconds to absorb what his wife had just implied. There was a moment of sudden realisation when his eyes sprung open, he turned to see his wife beside him, naked and inhaled so sharply that he almost choked. With her declaration and the fact that she was unclothed announced she was now free from _one_ _'_ _s friend_ and able to recommence their pleasures. Before he spoke, he unceremoniously sprung up from the bed and run directly towards the dressing room. Elizabeth snorted as she viewed in the farcical playing out in front of her. He had tripped up on the rug, just after he had pulled his thin cotton nightshirt over his head, but as it had stuck fast around his noggin, he could not determine where he was treading. Therefore, his left foot had hooked under the edge of the Persian carpet and the man nearly came to blows with the floor. "Damn it!" he cried out as he managed to find his equilibrium once more, but he continued his attempts to disrobe himself. Elizabeth could do no more than enjoy the spectacle. There, before her, was a proud gentleman of seven and twenty, in excess of ten thousand a year and a member of the upper circles, fighting with a bountiful amount of frustration in order to rid himself of such a flimsy piece of fabric.

"Elizabeth! Do not laugh; get me the hell out of this thing!" he roared. Elizabeth just continued to observe his dance around the room with such amusement; his arms restrained in the air and his head bound in cloth. From the chest down, he was naked.

With his agile form, he finally pulled himself out of the tangle, and on doing so, he flung the shirt to the floor with a huff. "What are you waiting for? Make haste!"

By the time she stopped laughing, removed herself from the bed and enter the room, Darcy had already supplanted several pints of water from the bath onto the floor, whilst jumping into the steaming hot tub.

"Lord! You are like a child at Christmas waiting for your gift."

"Yes, and what a splendid treasure you are too. Now, get yourself in here at once, woman!"

"Treasure, am I, sir?"

"Yes! Now, come here, wench!" he commanded.

She stood before him and then began to slowly walk around the tub, for no reason other than to provoke a response. "Wife!"

" _Yes, husband?"_ came her nonchalant reply as she moved away from his reach.

"You are consciously avoiding me. Why?"

" _Oh, no reason. I just thought I would take a turn about the room. I assure you it is very refreshing after laying so long in one attitude."_ She paused in front of him, then continued on her circumnavigation of the tub.

"Elizabeth?!"

" _Yes, oh, just one or two more turns about the room to refresh my senses. Do you not care to join me, Mr Darcy?"_

"I decline the invitation, for I wish for you to come here, to me… Now!" His annoyance at her noncommittal made her even more determined to tease him. She knew she would eventually give in to his wants, sooner rather than later, but to torture him just a little while longer would please her husband when she did finally submit. "Elizabeth, your motive for choosing to act as such and parade yourself in front of me has not gone amiss. I know what you are about."

" _Whatever can you mean, Mr Darcy?"_

"Do you really need for me to explain?"

" _Yes, otherwise I would not have asked,"_ she smiled sweetly as she disappeared behind him.

"Either you are entertaining yourself with the peculiar notion of provoking my frustrations by enforcing delayed gratification, or you wish to punish me, for some odd reason. I assume the first is most probable, as I have done no wrongdoings that I am aware of and have only been attentive towards you… _when you let me,_ _"_ he cocked his brow at the last statement.

"Oh! So, you want me in there? With you?"

"Yes. I have already told you, you little minx?" and with that, he leaned over and grabbed her hand.

Pulling her forward, Elizabeth lost her step and fell into his arms with a squeal. "I have you now. There is no getting away." She giggled at his self-satisfaction, then sunk back onto his chest resting her head in the crook of his neck and sighed. "Heaven. How I have missed you. I have been one frustrated pego. I am sure I spent half of yesterday walking around with a rather pronounced bunchage in my breeches."

"Fitzwilliam, what is a pego?" Elizabeth asked innocently. She had heard the term before, whilst out in the marketplace at Meryton. Mr Hammond, a market seller, had called his brother such when he dropped the box of apples and allowed them to roll into the street.

"Oh… erm… an idiot?" he stated with some trepidation. He did not wish to discuss with his wife the true meaning. He had picked up the term from his cousin, who used it continuously whilst the ladies were not in earshot.

"Are you telling me the truth?" she asked, seeing him go rather red. Surely, he would not blush on such a petty self-degradation.

"No, I am not," was all that Darcy was permitted to say.

"So?"

"So, what?"

"I take it that what you said was rather ungentlemanly," she teased. "Will you not tell me?"

"No."

"So, will I have to ask someone else? Richard perhaps?"

"NO!" He scrunched his face up and divulged its true meaning, not wishing to see his wife's reaction.

"Well," she sighed. "If I had known you were in such dire straits, I could have eased your suffering by other means. I am sure you would not have refused some gentle caresses of your… _pego_ ," she bit her lips together hoping to curb her laugh.

"You tell me now?"

"Well, I thought you could handle a short break."

"But… but-"

"Fitzwilliam. It has been two days. You are extremely lucky that it is of such short duration. Some women bleed for a week. Pray tell, what did you do before we wed?"

"That's another life Elizabeth, but I must admit that a wet palm had come in handy before we married." He could not believe he admitted to his self-relief. He felt the heat radiate his cheeks once more, and it was not from the steam of the water.

"What!? You mean to say you did things to yourself?"

"Yes. I am afraid to admit it. I only did occasionally, but after I first met you, it turned into a daily occurrence. You released something in me that I could barely control, so I allowed myself to... but now I have you." Darcy started to stroke her thighs; he gave little effort on his part before he had his wife writhing in his arms, whereby, his needs were keenly met thrice over before the water had cooled.

* * *

Later that morning, Darcy had retreated to the stables, to visit one of the tenants, who had suffered rather bad crops that year. It was coming up to harvest time, and the tenant was worried that the yield his fields produced would not be enough to pay his rent on time. As it was, the farmer had caught the squire in such a good mood, that Darcy allowed a dramatically reduced rent for the time being, and once he was able to build up his income again, he would receive the remainder without the incurrence of interest. Darcy did, however, think on whether or not to allow him off completely, but if it were to be known, other not-so-honest tenants would attempt the same request as trickery, in order to elude the expense. He was no fool, but neither was he a hardened tyrant. After which, he had ridden to one of the joining fields to meet Mr Jones, where he had planned for a building to be constructed to enable the congregation of his tenants within a social atmosphere.

While Darcy was out on the grounds, Elizabeth had settled on writing to her aunt. It had been nearly three weeks since she left London and there was much to tell.

 _Pemberley House_  
 _Derbyshire_

 _Dear Aunt_

 _I hope this letter finds you both well._

 _I cannot believe it has only been three weeks since I left London, the time has sped by, but it feels like an age since I last saw you._

 _Firstly, may I say both myself and Fitzwilliam are happy and in good health._

 _Pemberley is such a magical place, and indeed very large. I have only ventured out of doors a few times into the grounds here, as most of my time is spent in the company of my husband. He is determined to keep me to himself during this first month for selfish reasons, and I must admit that I am enjoying his attention immensely._

 _Georgiana is due to return in a week_ _'_ _s time with Mrs Annesley, and the Viscount will not be far behind. I know Fitzwilliam has missed his sister, but he also does not look forward to the limitations it will bring. He has shown his appreciation of me quite freely, whilst it is just us in residence, and I doubt he would allow me to sit on his lap, once Georgiana is in the room._

 _I understand that all the Fitzwilliam family members will be visiting at Christmas and I wished that you could join us. But I know that you both are unable to travel due to uncle_ _'_ _s prior commitments. If it is possible, I would be happy if you could visit Pemberley in the spring, business permitting of course._

 _Today, Fitzwilliam is busy overseeing some sort of construction they are building in one of the fields. From my understanding, it is to be a community type building for the tenants. Fitzwilliam explained that it would be a great place for them to congregate, as the only other assembly point is either the church or the local Inn. Neither are ideal for families to fraternise._

 _The servants here are all wonderful, and my dear husband even managed to hire the three we had at Longbourn. Apparently, Collins was about to cast them out into the streets without a reference. Can you believe he would do such a thing!_

 _Have you heard at all from that ogre, Mr Collins? I wonder if he has changed anything at Longbourn? I do hope not. I would hate to think that someone has come along and removed all the love that was in the place. But then, that was lost when Papa went, and all that was left behind were material effects that no longer belonged to us._

 _Send my love to the little ones. I miss them very much but hope to see you all here at some time in the coming year._

 _Give my love to Uncle and write soon._

 _Yours lovingly_

 _Elizabeth_

Elizabeth put her pen down and turned to see her husband standing behind her. "I thought you were out all day. Is everything as it should be?"

"Yes, all is fine," he stated as he came and sat down beside her. "I have been out and will be going back again in a few minutes. I returned to pick up some plans from my study. I wonder… would you care to join me and meet some of the tenants, Elizabeth?"

"I would love that very much. It is about time I made myself known."

The couple walked to one of the adjacent fields to where a group of tenants had gathered. While Darcy was discussing construction issues with the menfolk, Elizabeth introduced herself to the wives and children, advising them that she would start calling on them in a week or two. "So, are you the new housekeeper then, missus?" A little girl asked.

Elizabeth determined that she must only be four or five. The mistress bent down so that she was on the same level before replying. "No, I am the new mistress. Why do you think I am the housekeeper?"

"Cos Missus Rainholds used to come, but if you are now, then you must be doing her job."

Elizabeth chuckled, "No sweetheart, I am the mistress. I am married to Mr Darcy and Mrs Reynolds was helping out until I came along to take over."

"So, will you be bringing us cake then? Missus Rainholds did. It had loads of seeds in it."

"I suppose I can manage that. I will have to discuss with Mr Darcy if we can spare so much seed for the little birdies around here," she said whilst pinching the little girl's nose and making her giggle. Elizabeth had such an urge and could not resist; she picked the little girl up in her arms and sat her on her hip, as she hugged her. The little one melted into her embrace and closed her eyes.

"You smell of flowers," she said as Elizabeth naturally rocked back and forth.

"I have a bottle of scent at home. Maybe if you are very good, I can bring some to you." It was not an expensive perfume, as she had purchased it herself in London, but had to find a small bottle which she could decant an amount into.

"Really?!" little birdie said as she sat back in her arms, shock spread across her face.

Darcy had caught sight of what had been occurring with his wife and stopped mid-sentence. To see his wife with a child in her arms gave him a warm feeling. He knew she would make a good mother, just by how she had interacted with the Gardiner children, especially Jemima. The menfolk looked up at the master wondering what had stopped him in his tracks, they followed his gaze and smiled. "Ere, Bert," one whispered to the other, "Seems like the master has a twinkle in his eye."

Within an hour, they were making their way back to the house when Elizabeth asked, "Fitzwilliam, do we have a school here on the estate where the children can go? I noticed that there were a lot of young children with their mothers, who are of schooling age. It is a shame they will grow up not knowing how to read or write.

"If we could use the building you are erecting now during the day, I am sure we could get a teacher in to help the children the three R's. Am I right in assuming the building will be unused during this time as the adults will be labouring on their farms?"

"Most likely it will only be used after sundown. That is a grand idea, Elizabeth. However, I am not sure how many tenants will take up the offer. Having said that, things are changing, and people can no longer rely on just working the land. With industry as it is now, there is a greater need for trained labour, and it only follows that people will need to know the basics."

"Let me ask when I go visiting. I am sure I can persuade the parents," Elizabeth suggested.

Darcy thought for a few moments then agreed, "As it is your idea I will leave it in your capable hands. Once we have a number of pupils and the building is erect we will advertise for a teacher for maybe three days a week to start. I do not think the parents will stretch to five or six days as the children tend to help at home, but if things go well and the parents see it is worth more time, then we can increase the school hours."

"And maybe I can take an hour or two out to help. I do love to be amongst children," she sighed.

This made Darcy very happy. He had a wife he loved more than anyone in the world, and hopefully, very soon there would be the patter of tiny feet echoing around Pemberley halls.


	23. Welcome Home, Georgiana

A full month had passed since the couple's arrival at Pemberley, and it was now the youngest Darcy's time to return home.

"It is so good to see you, Georgiana, I hope you had a pleasant trip?" Elizabeth enquired as she assisted her new sister from the carriage.

"Yes, thank you, Elizabeth. It is not such a tiresome trip from Matlock as it is from town. Richard has remained to help Aunty Cecilia with something or another, then he will journey hither, but not for another day or two. Brother, he reminded me to tell you to make sure you had _the good stuff_ brought up from the cellars," she said as they made their way into the parlour.

"Typical. Does our cousin ever think to bring his own? Matlock's cellars are better stocked than mine," Darcy exclaimed.

"But, brother, they all belong to Uncle Henry. You know that Richard is not allowed to touch without his permission."

"That is what he says, Georgie. I am quite certain that a few bottles would not be denied _if_ uncle Henry was applied to… I suppose I have no choice. I do not begrudge Richard his tipple, but it rarely remains such, and before he has got back on top of his horse, half a dozen bottles would have been consumed. _Maybe I should invest in a distillery._ _"_

"Did not Uncle Henry invest five hundred pounds in a distillery a few years ago? The London Distillery Company, was it not?" Georgiana asked.

"Yes. Although, if I were to set up such a business, I would not be so naive as Mr Dodd."

"Uncle was furious when they lost the court case, but I do not blame him one jot, for he wasted an awful amount of time and money on that venture."

"Besides his pride being bludgeoned… He did not realise that Dodd had not sought the royal charter. If it had been done by the proper channels, it would have been a very lucrative venture. All I can say is that it was a good job I was not persuaded in that particular direction, as I was attempting to purchase a rather large establishment in Mayfair at the time."

"Oh? What was that, Fitzwilliam?" Elizabeth asked.

"The property next to Darcy House. I wanted to purchase it and knock the two properties into one dwelling."

"But the house is already so large and will easily suit a family of ten. Do you need that many rooms to entertain?"

"We, Elizabeth, we," he said as he sat down next to his wife. "It probably did not need to be increased, and now I cannot think of why I wished to do so. I did not succeed in any case, for the Cartwrights went above my offer, and old Sir Fotheringham took their bid over mine, but not until after a few heated words had been exchanged; it was not gentlemanly of him to withdraw once he had accepted my offer."

"You were outvied?" she laughed. _"_ _Oh, poor, poor, sweet husband. To think that you did not get your own way. At least you would not have a silly number of rooms to lose yourself in, and your servants would not require a map in order to complete their duties."_ Darcy grinned at his wife's jibes and took them in good humour. Georgiana giggled at her new sister's jovial response. She had only ever seen Richard tease her brother and his attempts only lead to arguments, but Darcy seemed somewhat happy with his wife's verbal titillation.

"Yes, well… Enough of that. How are you, sister? Glad to be home again?" Darcy asked in an attempt to change the direction of the conversation.

"Oh, I am sooooo glad to be here. Do not get me wrong, for I did enjoy my time, but something happened in the second week of my stay. I kept getting ushered out of the room on several occasions and then there were raised voices. I am sure Aunt and Uncle were quarrelling."

"Was Aunt Cecilia being not herself again? Richard has said she is not well at the moment."

"No. I know what Aunt is going through. She told me a fortnight ago. I do sympathise with her as we will all go through it… Well, us females…. But no matter, I digress. It is most likely a case of Aunty wanting to chastise Uncle for his disappearing acts as he was taken to doing during the day; his absence was felt quite often. I did overhear that he was visiting a young lady in Tansley, but I do not think that would be the case as the family is not acquainted with anyone from there. Seems all rather odd to me."

Elizabeth observed Darcy rolling his eyes whilst he believed no one was paying attention. She knew what type of lady Lord Matlock had been visiting; it was glaringly obvious. It was either a mistress or a woman from one of those bawdyhouses that masqueraded as some sort of shop, but in reality was nothing more than an establishment to feed the sins of men. This made Elizabeth feel uneasy, and she found herself rather uncomfortable with this knowledge. She knew that it was a given fact that a gentleman, and especially one of the higher circles, would take a mistress after marriage. Could her husband do the same in the future, when he grew bored of her attention? His previously spoken words came to her in an instant. _I do not have a lover,_ he had said, but he had not claimed to never have had one. _I told you I did not have a mistress_ _…_ He had responded on reading Miss Bingley's written lie; again, there was no denying a former intimate acquaintance. He had no intention now, but what about in the future? She knew there would be times where she would have to turn him away. Her confinement once she was swollen with child, or worse when he finally grew bored of her. She would have to bear the embarrassment of her husband seeking another for his pleasures and after the event, could she bare to return to his bed when he demanded it, knowing that their marriage had been sullied by his promiscuous behaviour?

Her thoughts had quietened her instantly; she could very well find herself in a situation that Lady Matlock was now experiencing. Darcy descried her mien, sensing his wife was deep in thought. He grabbed at her hand, hoping to reassure her of his fidelity, but Elizabeth could not entertain any form of comfort at that moment, from the man who could very well end the felicity they had enjoyed since their marriage. She made her excuse to retreat to her room, where she would hopefully come to some agreeable conclusion.

Within a few minutes, Darcy had made his excuses to Georgiana; he needed to attend to his wife and hopefully put her doubts to rest. "Elizabeth, can I come in for a moment? I think we need to talk."

She did not want his company at that particular time, and she certainly did not wish to talk but knew he was not going to allow her a reprieve, so permitted him entry.

"I could not allow you to sit in solitude and wallow in your thoughts. I know what you are thinking, Elizabeth; I could determine what was on your mind, from your sudden change in manner and then your withdrawal.

"My Uncle is a cad and has no qualms about lifting any skirt to get his comforts. He does not care about his marriage vows, but I do." Elizabeth looked up at him wide-eyed and then back down to her clasped hands in her lap; she did not know how to behave with such a revelation placed before her, so continued to focus on her knotted fingers. He continued, "I cannot say that you are the only woman I have laid with, as that would be a lie. However, I can say for sure that there was only one other woman, who was a professional. There was no emotional attachment whatsoever."

"I do not need to hear this!" she pleaded.

"Yes you do; I need you to understand, and I think you have a right to know… When I was but a young man, my father had purchased her services over the course of a week to teach me how to... get pleasure as well as give pleasure to a woman in return. I am not certain if he expected me to discretely take up a mistress or not, but I was not prepared to do so. How could I disrespect anyone who would have risked everything and gambled with the chance of an issue? I did not wish to sire a bastard, just for the sake of a few minutes pleasure. Others may wish to do so, but I have always believed that one should be committed to their partner before such an intimate engagement is sought." He sighed, knowing that the next revelation would disconcert his wife. "Having said this, I have visited the same woman a couple of times a year since, and that is only because she is a professional, and there is no chance of issue as she cannot bear children." Elizabeth gasped and pulled away, which urged Darcy to continue with haste. "But, Elizabeth, believe me when I say that I have not seen her since the beginning of the year. Months before we met. I have no intention of employing her ever again.

"Please believe me in saying that I will never make you a Cuckquean; I have too much respect for you as my wife and the mother of our future children. I am honour bound to you, and you will be the only woman in my bed." _And the only woman who has so thoroughly taken hold of my heart,_ he thought.

"You may say that now, but when you grow tired of me, or I cannot perform my duties; what then?" she stated firmly but Darcy could detect a tremble in her voice, as though she was on the verge of tears. "Yes, I am what you want or desire at this moment, but what happens when I am in my confinement? You have already stated that you wish to bed me daily, and you could only just control yourself after two days abstinence. What if I am unable to fulfil those duties for weeks on end?"

"My darling, I will not grow tired of you, and I will not shrivel up and die from the lack of copulation… I took my vows in the presence of God. I will not break them with some urge that I have, and if it gets too much I have my hand… _or yours,_ " he said in an attempt to lighten the mood. "The increase in one's desires is entirely of your making and no one else's. I do not wish to bed another woman other than my wife when it is my wife who has made me feel so… needy. Please believe me when I say that you are all that I will ever want or desire."

Elizabeth could not hold her emotions any longer. Tears that had threatened to fall, did so, and with such violence that she could barely speak. "I… I seem to have… over-reacted, but… but it is so early in the marriage that I… I feel a little vulnerable… in my situation."

"No, God, no!" he pulled her into his embrace and held her tightly to his beating chest. "You must never feel that. You are my wife, and I will treat you with the respect you deserve. I know our marriage was arranged, but that does not mean I will treat you any differently."

They sat in silence for what felt like an eternity. Elizabeth had quietened in his arms but had not said a word. "Darling, please say something; talk to me. I need to know how you fair, as your silence is killing me."

"Do not worry, for I am well enough. I knew that there must have been at least one woman before me; no innocent would know how to bestow such… undertakings as you have without some prior knowledge. I knew that you must have had some experience." Then Elizabeth added, "Do they really have tutors that teach that sort of thing?"

"Yes. Richard can vouch for it, if you dare to ask. The earl bought his son a fortnight's tuition, twice over," he confirmed with a cautious laugh.

"Good grief!"

* * *

Georgiana had been walking the grounds when she observed Richard approaching on horseback.

"You have come!" she cried.

"Morning, Georgie. I did not think you would be that glad to see me; it has only been a couple of days," he said laughingly as he dismounted.

"Come into the house. Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam are having breakfast."

"Breakfast!? But, it is nearly noon!"

"They rose late this morning."

Richard grinned.

The Viscount walked into the breakfast room with Georgiana, announcing his arrival with a jibe, _"So, can I have some late breakfast?"_

Pointing at the empty chair next to his wife, Darcy invited him to sit. Georgiana sat opposite Elizabeth, on Darcy's other side. Richard observed the lovers and noticed that Elizabeth was beginning to blush. "Morning, Elizabeth," he said turning to his new cousin, "What is the matter? You look rather flush. _Are you hot?_ "

"Stop it! You have just arrived and started already. Elizabeth, ignore him."

Richard was amused but raised his hands to show the proverbial white flag, "Fair enough, Darcy, I will behave myself and will be a good little boy. I apologise, cousin Elizabeth." He turned to the master and continued, "I see you are building something two fields along. What have you got planned?"

"It is going to be a gathering place for the tenants in the evenings and a school during the day. Elizabeth suggested the building could be used to teach the children during the daytime. We are to advertise for a position of teacher, and I am hoping it to be a school for at least three days a week to start with."

"That is a damn good idea. Most of the farmers at Matlock do not have access to schooling, but times are changing and think it will become a normal way of life."

"That is what myself and Elizabeth concluded. Everything is in such a rush within industry, who knows what will happen to farmland in a few years time. I have already established other projects since father died, which should guarantee a decent income if the farming industry takes a plummet."

"That's right; you got those properties you purchased. How many have you got now, and more importantly are they all occupied? You do not wish to have any sitting empty. The loss of income is one thing, but the worst would be if anyone broke in and took over the place without your consent."

"No houses are empty at present, and when they are, I have a handful of people who I can call on to take up residence, free of charge. They will look after the building, whilst I find another tenant. I have around twenty now, but one of the tenants plans not to renew his lease at the end of this year. He originally took it for three years and it is due to expire in December, but he wishes to move to the coast as he is getting on in years and feels the sea air will benefit his health. I may purchase such so that he can take up residence, as he is a good tenant."

Elizabeth was quietly listening to the conversation going back and forth between the two gentlemen. She was shocked to discover her husband had so many dwellings. He had mentioned it at their first meeting, but she did not think there would be quite so many.

"Fitzwilliam, do you mean to continue to procure houses in order to let them out?" Elizabeth enquired.

"Yes, I think there is a great deal of money to be had in that part of the business world. Most of my tenants are not of the gentry, but of high ranking officers such as Generals, Brigadiers and Colonels. All had acquired wealth during their campaigns and wished to improve themselves when they returned to England. The estates I have are nowhere near the scale of Pemberley. Most can barely be called an estate and are more of a country house with a handful of tenants, which the officers can afford. Those are easier to let."

"Is not Bingley trying to find himself an estate to buy," Richard asked.

"Yes, he leased the Netherfield estate a few months ago, but I am not sure he wants to stay in that part of the country now, for I stole the prettiest gem in the county for my wife," Darcy declared as he took Elizabeth's hand in his and kissed it tenderly.

"Oh! Enough of that! Did you not get enough this morning?" Richard guffawed.

"Richard!"

"I apologise. _I am sorry, Elizabeth, that you have married someone without a funny bone. I would have, of course, made a far jovial husband_ _…_ _._ Very well, Darcy, keep your breath," he added as he saw his cousin's face grimace in his direction. "I was only playing merry."

"Not with my wife, you will not!"

"So, Bingley?" Richard asked, ignoring his cousin's annoyance.

Darcy took a deep breath and continued. "I believe Bingley wishes to move further north, as he has family in Scarborough."

"I would not be surprised if he did not settle close to Pemberley. You had a good friendship there, and now that you are married, I cannot see you travelling as much as you did before."

"Yes, I do not think we will head south as often as I have done in the past, and when we do, it will be in town so that we can take advantage of the season and visit the Gardiners."

"Ah! Elizabeth's wonderful relations; what a delight they are. They do host a damn good party. You should have been there after you left."

"Not likely," Darcy resolved with a cock of the brow.

"No, I do not think you would ol' chap. Well, after you left, the drinks began to flow, and Wickham attempted to stand on his head. God knows why, for he cannot even get down on his knees without assistance. He ended up flat on his front with his head under Miss Bingley's skirt; he was out for the count. Miss Bingley was offended by his behaviour, to begin with, but then she realised he was unconscious and started to worry."

"Dear lord, was he hurt?" Elizabeth gasped.

"Only his pride, dear cousin. He came around moments later, claiming he had swooned. Mrs Peters then took over, and I could not believe my eyes when I saw her lift him off of the floor, by herself. She is one strong woman."

"And all this was done in front of Georgiana?" Darcy snapped.

"No, of course not. By that time she had retired with Jemima and Bertie Gardiner. It was only then that the adults could enjoy themselves to the fullest. Bingley had taken to dancing around the room with Aunt Maddie whilst Uncle Edward puffed on his cigar, demanding that they take another turn. I am certain that man enjoys observing his wife prancing about the room from the comfort of his seat."

"Oh! I am so terribly sorry, Fitzwilliam. I had no idea my family could be so-"

"Elizabeth, do not concern yourself. You should see some of our family when the drinks flow. As long as this did not take place in front of Georgiana, I do not mind. Adults can answer for their own behaviour, but children will only follow by example."

"Oh, I wish I had watched from the landing. You all had so much fun after I had gone to bed," Georgiana pouted.

"All in good time, sweet girl, all in good time." Richard preached.

"At least another year, Georgiana, and only then after you have been presented at court."

"That, dear brother, I am not looking forward to. I understand the costume can be rather uncomfortable."

"It will only be for a short time, Georgie," Richard stated. "I remember when mother sponsored one of her crony's daughters; it is a sight to behold. So once you have been presented and have your first season, every man will be kneeling at your feet asking for your hand."

"I do not like the sound of that, Richard," Darcy said.

"But she is a beauty, plus her dowry and all her accomplishments. Mother says she has not heard a more pleasant performance than she did the other evening. Father was impressed with our little one's improvement upon the instrument. I hope you will play for us later today, Georgie?"

"Elizabeth and I will play a duet, and maybe you would be willing to sing," she asked, having glanced at her new sister for her agreement.

"Yes, we can practice this afternoon and then after we have eaten we can give the gentlemen some entertainment.

"No Singing along, Fitzwilliam," Richard proclaimed.

"Oh, come now. Surely you would not begrudge me my little attempt at a tune, would you?"

"I would not if you could sing, but brother, I am certain you are tone deaf."

"I am not! I can perfectly hear a tune. Elizabeth sings exquisitely."

"You are, Darcy. Maybe it is only your own voice that you cannot determine." Richard added, "Have you not noticed how I always stand behind you in church."

"Oh, do not let him upset you. You cannot be good at everything." Elizabeth soothed her now disheartened husband.

"Fine! I will not join in from now on!"

"Here, here!" Richard jeered.

At that moment, Elizabeth took Darcy's hand and held it tight. He glanced up and could not help but bashfully smile. "Do you still wish for me to sing this evening, Fitzwilliam?"

"Yes please, my sweetling, for nothing will give me greater pleasure than to hear your mellow tones."

Richard nearly choked on his toast.


	24. Calm before the Storm

-0-

After dinner, as promised, the ladies made their way to the music room, and the gentlemen remained behind for a much-anticipated brandy and cigar. "Are these from the America's?" Richard enquired as he rolled the thick cheroot between his thumb and fingers, then sniffed the fragrant, yet distinct aroma before taking a much-deserved puff.

"I obtained them from the Earl," Darcy stated with some amount of humour, as Richard knew his father had his fingers in all sorts of pots.

"Ah, smuggled then. I will not complain if it means I get to enjoy such a luxury of being able to smoke in comfort without mother fretting. Even father rarely smokes at home as mama hates the smell. Retreating to the assembly point amongst the trees in the garden is a common occurrence and one I can do without, especially in winter."

"I remember a few years back we were all huddled together, trembling with the cold; your mother refused us the enjoyment one evening after dining at Matlock House. She would not even consider us to partake in your father's study, which is one room she never goes into."

"Yes, I remember that year. Nearly froze my tallywags off*."

"It was not _that_ cold."

"I beg to differ. I have known of men getting frostbite to their privates and then they dropped off after such a low temperature."

"That is a story made up by some poorly endowed man," Darcy laughed.

"Maybe, but I would not like to test out the temperature theory to determine if it was a fabrication or not. _I am quite attached to my equipment and would miss them terribly if they were to become estranged from the rest of my body, without so much as a bye or leave._ _"_

Darcy cheerfully sighed at his cousin's absurdity and gazed into the bottom of his empty glass. Richard had observed Darcy for most of the day; he was a changed man and for the better. Gone were the frown lines upon his forehead and the hardened expression he wore on occasion. Now was a very contented man who could not wish for more, for Darcy was happy beyond his wildest dreams. "Penny for your thoughts," the Viscount enquired as he filled Darcy's glass.

"I was just thinking about my wife," he sighed once more as he swilled the freshly poured amber liquor around in the tumbler with more than a hint of satisfaction.

"Aren't you always. You got it bad. Anyone can see that you are in love; I have never known you to be so happy in all my years. Your attentions towards Mrs Darcy is sometimes rather… your looks are quite obvious."

"I do not know what you mean. Am I not allowed to look at my wife?"

"Of course you are, but the way you look at her shows how deeply you feel. You are besotted, I could see it from as early as our time in London before you were married. I tried to tell you this the day before your wedding, but you refused to listen to me. Do you deny you were not in love then?"

Darcy's head flopped forward into his hands, "I cannot deny it; I think I fell in love with her over Adelaide."

"Adelaide? Who is Adelaide?"

"Beethoven. When she sang in German at our dinner party, I felt it then."

"I thought something was up with you that evening. You sprung from your seat, and when you did not return, we found you at the doorway to the music room with Uncle Edward. I should have realised you had succumbed to that little-pointed dart."

"Yes, Cupid took aim, and his arrow pierced my heart, but I only allowed myself to admit it when we were on our way to Pemberley. What am I to do Richard? I love her so much, but I fear she does not return my affection. She is amiable enough when we are alone, dare I say she is passionate beyond my wildest dreams, but that isn't enough. I want her heart; I want her to want me, yearn for me when I am not there. Is that too much to wish for from one's wife?"

"Not in the slightest," Richard said pausing for a moment before continuing. "Does she give you any sign at all? Looks, touches that do not imply a wanton desire?"

"Richard, you cannot ask me such questions. If she is wanton, and I am not confirming it before you ask; that is between Elizabeth and myself."

"She is. You have already said yourself that she is passionate beyond your wildest dreams, and if they are anything like mine, they are pretty spectacular."

Darcy huffed, then gulped down the rest of the brandy in his hand. "I cannot tell what she thinks when she looks at me. Sometimes her expression almost looks melancholy, as though she is sad and I can only surmise that she is unaffected, for surely love would not bring on such a sombre countenance."

"Or she is sad because you have not declared your love for her; she could be in torture due to your noncommital and wallowing in self-pity as you are. The only way to find out, ol' chap, is to just ask her how she feels. I assume you talk to each other?"

"Of course we do, but never emotional topics, certainly not those of love… Although, sometimes she does get emotional." He furrowed his brow at the thought. "You know how I am not comfortable with all that deep sentimental talk when it comes to the matters of the heart, then add to that my fear in approaching the subject in case I discover this is an unequal bond… I would rather not know and plead ignorance than live my life in denial; I would prefer not to know she does not return my love for her."

"Good God, Darcy, are you out of your senses? You cannot go through life clinging onto the hopes of your wife's devotion, not knowing for sure? Just sit down with her before you go to bed and talk to her. She probably knows already how you feel and she may be in the same situation as you, hence the melancholy, for are you not displaying it now, yourself? The longer you leave it, the worse it will be to relieve yourself of this secret you are so desperate to cling onto."

"I wish I had taken lessons on how to talk to women in a pretty manner, but Miss Martin was only demonstrative in a physical sense; she should have taught a man how to woo, not take pleasure."

"Yes, she was quite something in the latter. Do you remember the chair? She told me it had been specially made for her; there is no other like it."

"I do not wish to remember any of my times with her. She served a purpose, and that is all."

"She prepared all the gentry around these parts and still continues to provide relief to those who wish to renew their… _education._ It is amazing she is still in business and not invested in the five percents with what she has earned lying on her back."

"She has probably done that too. She cannot go on forever; sooner or later she will have to retire, but she probably enjoys her profession. It is not as if she is a tuppence whore in Drury Lane's alleyways."

"Maybe I should seek her out again whilst I am here. I have not had a good romp for well over two months, and I'm beginning to look at the maids in a certain way."

"Do not go looking at my staff!"Darcy exclaimed. "I will have none of that under my roof!"

" _What about the hayloft?"_ Richard laughed. "Joke, Darcy! We are moving away from the real issue here. You need to talk to Elizabeth as soon as possible. Choose a moment where you will not be disturbed and just explain to her how you feel and that you have felt this way since before you married. You may be surprised at her response. Once you are both relieved of this burden, you will grow closer and making love is far more rewarding than just physical affections alone."

"Ha! Richard, you surprise me. When did you get to be so knowledgeable? You seem to know quite a bit on the subject, considering you have not even been betrothed, let alone married."

"Oh, I have had my share of a broken heart or two."

"Have you?! When?"

"Last year; Lady Bosworth."

"The merry widow from Tunbridge Wells?!"

"Yes, the very same lady. I had a dalliance with her for about six months. Loved her to death; could not marry her though, as she was too old, being ten years my senior. Father would have had apoplexy if I had pursued her with a view of tying the knot. The risk of a lack of an heir was too great, for a woman approaching her fortieth year is not good wife material. She even proved this with my continued attention to her without the use of a trusty scabbard. None of her affairs with other lovers had resulted in issue, so assumed she was past it."

"You did not use protection?!"

"No, I did not. Feels a damn sight better without. You cannot say that sticking something on your plug tail* feels better than without."

"I cannot."

"Oh, the joys of dipping one's wick into a warm, soft… h'humm. Sorry Darce, got a bit carried away there," he snorted.

"So what happened?"

"I got rather aroused."

"No! Not now. After Lady Bosworth!"

"Oh! Nothing much. I picked myself back up off of the floor that I had sunk to and brushed myself down."

"You went to a brothel." Richard grinned. "Then you better get yourself sorted out. The clock is ticking, and you cannot put it off for much longer. You know your father and mother wishes you to settle and continue the line."

" _Says he who did not wish to wed until a moment before his thirty-fifth birthday."_

"And I could kick myself for that. I could have been married for at least three years by now."

"Oh, the joys!"

"Well?"

"I have my eye on someone. Met her in London during the season. Sweet little thing, only had her debut this year, so still pretty green, but I would prefer that than have someone who had been chased around the ballroom by prospective suitors for the past couple of years. I have been invited to dine with the family next week at their estate in Rotherham."

"Do not tell me… The Davenports? You are chasing after the daughter of Sir Thomas?"

"Ah! Lovely Miss Rebecca. Danced with her twice at two different balls that you failed to attend due to your infatuation with Elizabeth. I also called on her several times at the family townhouse. Mother accompanied me to one of the gatherings, and she gushed with delight for days afterwards as she had witnessed me take an interest in a decent lass for a change. She was so keen that an invite to dine was sent for the following week, posthaste. Since returning to Matlock, we have been to see Shakespeare several times; used father's box at the Matlock Theatre."

"So, it is serious? The family is rich to be sure and have connections aplenty. Does not the family boast of a Marquess?"

"Yes, she has an uncle who holds that title. Pompous old chap, but I doubt I will see him with any regularity. I get the impression that Sir Thomas is eager for the match, for their estate is not that far from Matlock and knows that they will be able to visit often. It also helps that I will eventually hold the earldom and the wealth that comes with it."

"Ha! The proximity, money and a title, all good reasons for a desirable match. Would you wish for your in-laws to be so close?"

"I do not mind. Sir Thomas is quite a character and to have parents close by will please a wife and a happy wife will make a happy husband," he winked.

"So, do you think you will ask for her hand?"

" _Only her hand? I would quite like the rest of her; her hand may be all well and good, but I'd rather have the whole thing."_

"You know what I mean," Darcy tutted. His cousin was back to his foolery. "You are well over Lady Bosworth to be contemplating marriage?"

"Oh, definitely. It took me a month to realise Lady Bosworth had just been passing her time with me. I was a fool to think anything would come out of it as we both knew we could not wed. The whole affair lacked any amount of endurance, which I did not see at the time. I should have realised that it was over before it had begun and she was just filling her monotony with my attentions, but nobody thinks of that when they fall in love." Richard sat for a moment or two in silence, before clearing his throat. "So, Mrs Darcy and this arrow of yours… What do you intend to do?"

"I will speak with her tomorrow. I cannot do it now as I have drunk far too much and will fudge my words; I need to prepare myself."

"And write a speech?"

"I do not think I need to go that far. Although I may not have the talent to speak fluently on the subject with any ease, I do not need to study my words to any degree. Pre-arranging my thoughts on paper will not do as they may come across as sounding false."

"No, but you do not wish to blurt out your confession either. Darcy, just tell her like it is. The words will flow from your heart, not your head. Although having said that, you can be a blundering idiot sometimes." Darcy gave his cousin a stern look. "Well, you are. Now, let us return to the ladies and be entertained with the delights of music... And no singing along."

* * *

It was just after daybreak when Darcy had decided to take a ride around the grounds to clear his head and think about what he was going to say to Elizabeth that afternoon. The master had awoken from the effects of the bottle of brandy he consumed with Richard the night before and knew that if he did not go for his morning ride, he would feel just as horrid by noon. The weather had turned decidedly gloomy overnight, but the winds were not severe enough to hinder him from his excursion, so applied to the stable hand to prepare Neptune.

Elizabeth was still in slumber when he had readied himself. They had not retired until quite late due to Richard's eagerness to remain in the parlour, and even then, Darcy could not leave her be. Although he was far from sober, his libido was still wholly intact and therefore applied to his wife several times during the night for favours.

In the morning light, he felt the guilt immensely, for the talk he had with his cousin had not only had him wishing to declare himself, but it also led to more carnal thoughts, for he could not get that blasted chair the cyprian owned from his mind. _Maybe I should invest in such a contraption,_ he mused.

He rose for the day, but before leaving, left a note on the pillow next to where she slept;

—

 _My Darling Elizabeth_

 _I have woke to you still in rest. I could not bring myself to arouse you from your sleep this morning, for you were everything that is lovely._

 _I am sorry for having been so persuasive last night, but the amount of brandy I consumed, which would typically reduce most men to unconsciousness, failed to curb my cravings._

 _I leave you with your dreams as I mean to go out for a ride to clear my head of its fogginess. I will not be more than a couple of hours, so shall be back by ten. We can then spend some time alone this afternoon, as I wish to discuss something with you as a matter of great importance to the felicity we share within our marriage._

 _I will see you later, my sweet._

 _Fitzwilliam_

—

By noon, Elizabeth was beginning to worry, as her husband had yet to return. She found the housekeeper in the storeroom, next to the kitchen and enquired, "Mrs Reynolds, do you know if Mr Darcy has returned from his ride yet?"

"No ma'am, I do not believe he has. The master usually comes back into the house via the boot room to rid himself of his articles before entering the main house. His crop and riding boots are not there, so am assuming he is still out riding."

Elizabeth's concerns heightened; she had expected him back before ten, and the weather since had turned decidedly stormy and the threat of thunder was now approaching. She was beginning to panic at the thought of him lying injured somewhere and worst still that he was vulnerable to the elements, which included rabid dogs eager to attack anything in its path. She requested the immediate presence of the steward and insisted that a search party be formed in order to look for the master. She knew it was somewhat premature, for he could have just as easily passed the time with any of his tenants on an unexpected issue, but deep down she knew that something was amiss and could not ignore the gut-wrenching ache in her stomach.

A blanket search of the fields near and far was organised. The trusted men were given hunting horns or pistols so that if they found the master, they could send a message to the rest of the party and alert the house to prepare for their return.

As the men were about to leave the house, Neptune appeared at the stables. The stable boy had then run back to the main house announcing that the animal had returned, uninjured, but without the master. Elizabeth nearly collapsed at this news, and luckily Hannah was close by and was able to catch her in her arms before helping the mistress to a chair that Mrs Reynolds had pulled from the other side of the vestibule.

With all the commotion that had occurred in the entrance hall, Georgiana came down of her rooms, wondering what was happening. When she saw her sister in a state of nerves and the hub of activity around her, she knew that something was terribly wrong. "What has happened? Where is my brother?"

"We do not know," Elizabeth mumbled. It was all she could manage before breaking down into tears.

Mrs Reynolds continued, "Mr Darcy went for a ride on his horse this morning and has yet to return. Neptune, however, has just come back to the stables, alone."

"What is being done to find him?" gushed Georgiana with no small amount of agitation.

"Georgie, we have a search party out including cousin Richard. At least a hundred men are scouring the fields. They will find him before dark," Elizabeth managed to say. "They _must_ find him!"

The ladies sat, just holding each other; each trying to console their companion but both knowing the other was full of fear, and no amount of soothing would bring them solace. Mrs Reynolds ordered a pot of strong sweet tea to be served in the parlour and gently coaxed the ladies to sit and wait for news in a more comfortable environment, for the lobby was a hub of activity and filled with too much movement to settle their nerves. They waited for many hours in the stillness of the private room with no announcement that would bring them peace.

"Do you think he is dead?" Georgiana croaked, her voice barely audible as her throat restricted. Elizabeth could not speak, she just shook her head in a defiant _no_. She would not entertain the idea that her husband was lying dead in a ditch somewhere, cold and lifeless. He would walk in at any moment and wonder what all the fuss was about.

It was half-past six, the light was dimming outside, and Elizabeth knew that it would be dusk within the hour. _Please, God, let him be found alive,_ she prayed. She watched as Georgiana slept. She had cried herself to sleep the hour before and was resting her head upon Elizabeth's lap. How much she looked like her husband. She had not his colourings, as she was fair with the Fitzwilliam family resemblance, but her features were almost a feminine version of her husband's. The gentle slope of the nose, her full lips, and the way her brow curved reminded her of Darcy.

She lay her head on the back of the settee and closed her eyes. She wanted nothing more than to fall asleep, only to wake up from this nightmare to all being well.

* * *

AN Footnote

From the 1811 dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue:

 _TALLYWAGS, or TARRYWAGS. A man's testicles._  
PLUG TAIL. A man's penis.


	25. The Waiting Game

**AN**

 **FYI the Wickhams will make an appearance in a few chapters time.**

* * *

The natural light had started to diminish as the search party continued their efforts to find the master, but each and every man refused to give up due to darkness as dusk fell. Torches were lit, and oil lanterns were given out to each man as a means to illuminate the ebony skies and brighten the darkest corners of the estate. The master's own hounds were also let loose after they were allowed to take in his scent. It was hoped that one of the animals would track him down with its superb hunting skills and the offering of a favourite treat had spurred them on. It had occurred to Mrs Reynolds that they would be able to make use of the hunting hounds, but Richard quickly pointed out that those particular dogs had been bred to kill their find, so the idea was put to rest.

It was around two in the morning, when a distant gunshot was fired from one of the fields about a half mile away; its detonation was only faint, but distinct and could be heard from the house as it penetrated the quietened night's air with a slight echo. Mr Fellows, a long established tenant, had found Darcy face down on a makeshift pathway around the edge of the field. A large branch was discovered nearby, which had recently been ripped from one of the trees by the storm, and it was hastily assumed that this had struck a blow to the master's head and so rendering him unconscious. With a flurry and little dignity, the men managed to get Darcy back to the house on a feeble cart that one of the tenants provided.

Both Elizabeth and Georgiana woke to the cacophony of echoing sounds that filled the entrance hall. They looked at each other with fear as orders were given to the men who carried Darcy into the house. Had he been found dead, or was he still alive? How injured was he if luck was on his side and he still breathed? Was he awake or unconscious? Many questions found their way into Elizabeth's thoughts, and the bilious feeling in her stomach led her to believe the worst, for she had not heard her husband's voice amongst the multitude of shouts and cries.

The mistress ran into the vestibule, followed closely behind by Georgiana. There, she found her husband lying on one of the settees that she, herself, had fallen asleep on during the first night's festivities. How different this scene looked, for his body was motionless and his face smeared with blood. Richard was by Darcy's side, commanding him to wake. "Darcy! Can you hear me? Wake up, man!" he cried out over and over again, but the master did not stir. "Mrs Reynolds. We must get him warm. Have the fires lit in his bedchambers if they have not already, and plenty of blankets. We need to get him upstairs and warmed through," Richard commanded.

"Should we get a hot bath ready?"

"NO!" he cried out. "That could kill him. No brandy either. He needs sweet and warm drinks once he comes around, but until then, we need to warm him slowly as his body needs time to adjust." Another flurry of activity emerged from his instruction, and the master's weakened body was carried upstairs. Once situated, Elizabeth, Georgiana and Mrs Reynolds were ushered into the sitting room, whilst Richard helped Roger with removing Darcy's clothes as they were soaked through.

Elizabeth did not know what to do. She watched with heedless attention as the servants ran from here to there as they moved about the room. "This cannot be happening," she said only to herself. "Surely this is occurring in my head? How can this be!?" She felt a lump build in her throat until she could hold her emotions no longer. First, it was a single tear, then several and before she knew herself, she was sobbing uncontrollably. Mrs Reynolds could see that the mistress was building up to a frenzy, so hoped a stiff drink from the master's decanter he kept in the liquor cabinet may calm her; sweet tea would not fix her present state. She tried to hand her the drink, but Elizabeth was not mentally processing her surroundings; she was only self-absorbed in her current turmoil.

"I have called for Dr Evans already ma'am…. Ma'am? Do you hear me?" she called out several times, but Elizabeth was now bordering on hysteria.

Richard heard the hullabaloo from the master bedchambers and came back into the room. Seeing Elizabeth and her state of mind, only gave him one option, which was drastic by anyone's count. Kneeling down in front of her, he prayed to God to forgive him for what he was about to do; then with little warning, he slapped her across the face.

Elizabeth stopped immediately, only to stare at her cousin with wide eyes that portrayed her shock. "Darcy will kill me for what I just did, but Elizabeth, I knew of no other way to bring you around." Elizabeth sat there, saying not a word; her lips trembled in the aftermath of her emotional onslaught, and there was a risk she would return to her temporary insanity. "Do not start up again, do you hear me?! You need to be strong for when your husband wakes up."

"I want Fitzwilliam!" she sobbed.

"I know you do. The doctor will be here shortly, as Mrs Reynolds sent a boy to fetch him a half an hour ago; we cannot do much until he arrives. We have covered him in blankets whilst the fires are being brought up to temperature in his room and in here, hopefully, it will not be long before they are blazing."

She looked around the room and noticed the maids were stoking the fire. "What about in the meantime? The bed and bedding are cold! You know how it is when you first get into a bed on retiring if it has not been heated first!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "Why was the fire allowed to die down?!"

"I think everyone was too concerned with not having found Darcy, Elizabeth. Do not blame the staff as they have been upset by this event and most of them have been out searching. I would suggest you get under the blankets with him, as he will absorb the heat from your body in the meantime," Richard stated.

"But, Richard, Elizabeth cannot do that. It is not ladylike," Georgiana cried out at his less than proper request.

"Be damned with propriety! Do you want your brother to die?!" At this, Georgiana started to cry, but Elizabeth did not take notice of her caterwauling and ran into his rooms, where she burrowed beneath the layers of bedding that the valet had just place atop of his master. She snuggled against her husband's coldness and would not move, hoping that her warmth was enough to assist with his healing.

When Dr Evans arrived, Elizabeth was made to leave. At first, she refused, stating that she wished to remain, but Richard coaxed her into the private sitting room, just long enough to allow the doctor some privacy whilst he examined his patient. It was sometime later when he re-emerged."Mrs Darcy, I cannot see any injuries other than maybe concussion. He does have a small insignificant bump on the head and a gash to his temple, but the cut is only minor and does not require stitching. It is unlikely the branch which fell, struck him directly and I am more inclined to think that his horse was startled by the bough breaking and Mr Darcy fell from the beast.

"His pupils are shrinking and dilating in response to light being shone into them, which is a good sign. I must warn you, however, that the length of time he has been out in the open could result in him getting a chill or even a fever. This is only a possibility, mind you, and as he is a robust, healthy sort of man of few years, he should be able to fight off anything that manifests. Keep the room as warm as possible and do not let the fires diminish. I would advise you to return to his side to assist in warming him up. If he stirs and is able to drink, give him plenty of warm, sweet tea, as he is likely to be in shock.

"I will call back tomorrow to see how he is, but if his state changes before then and he awakens fully, or he becomes worse, please have a servant fetch me at once. Other than that, it is only a matter of time before he makes a reappearance into the world. I can examine him further when he is coherent."

After the doctor left, Elizabeth stood and started to pace the room. She was no longer upset, but angry. "That is the second time he has been thrown from that horse, this year! I want rid of the beast! Get it out of the stables, for I do not wish to see it ever again!"

"You cannot be serious. Elizabeth, think! He has had that horse since childhood; you cannot shoot the poor thing!" Richard explained.

"I did not say that. I want it gone!" she responded.

"No, I will not allow it!" Georgiana said as she stood up. Her voice was unlike anything Elizabeth had heard from the youngster. "My brother loves that horse, and you cannot do this to him. I will not allow it!"

"Who is mistress in this house?!" Elizabeth seethed.

"You are, dear sister, but you are not thinking straight! Would you cause your husband such heartache as to rid him of his most beloved steed." At this Elizabeth collapsed on the floor in another wave of sobs.

"I want him here, I want him to hold me and for everything to be how it was. Why did he have to go out when it was beginning to storm?"

On hearing this, Richard ordered Georgiana to go to bed and for the servants to retire for the night, knowing that tomorrow could possibly bring on another long day of restlessness as they wait for the master to awaken.

"But cousin, I wish to stay," Georgiana pleaded.

"Now, Georgie. There is nothing you can do at this moment in time. Once he wakes, then you can sit with him. He will probably have to stay in bed for a while and will quickly get bored and morose, so company will be desperately needed then. Besides, it's very late, and you have had no sleep. Go to bed; you will need your strength for when he wakes and in ill humour."

After Georgiana left to retire to her rooms, Richard pulled his cousin to her feet and placed her back on the settee. "It is a waiting game, Elizabeth. There is not much we can do to help, other than keep watch. It is best for you to return to his bed and keep the warmth under the bedding. If he wakes in the night, then we can call the doctor. Go to him; he needs you."

Elizabeth was only able to hold herself together as she nodded in agreement. She bid Richard goodnight and ran back into the master's chambers, where she quickly undressed, dived back under the covers, and clung her naked body to his like a disturbed limpet.

As she lay there, she watched for any signs that he may stir. Any flicker of life or groan of annoyance. It seemed like hours that she attended, staring at him in the silence that filled the room, urging him to wake. "Fitzwilliam, please wake up. You cannot leave me now that I have found you. I do not think I could cope without you by my side. You are my light, my love, my happiness, my everything," she whispered to him. She recognised her deep love for him in her avowal. How could she have overpassed her feelings? He was her saviour, her Sir Lancelot of the Lake, who had come and rescued her. Not only that, he had paid her such sweet attentions since their acquaintance that any woman would find it a struggle to not fall deeply and irrevocably in love with him. He was handsome, that she established almost immediately, but Darcy had a kind and giving heart. She could not have asked for a better man in this world to be her life's partner. He was not always serious, and when they were alone, he was as much of a tease as she. She had met her match, her component in a battle of banters, and she loved it… She loved him. "Please, come back to me… I love you!"

As she lay beside him, she recollected his many looks at her. Most were affectionate; none were unfavourable. A warm feeling started to churn in her as she remembered his gentle words of affection. Was he in love with her also? He had never declared himself to her, and she could not assume that because she loved him, that he returned her sentiment. Then she remembered the note, _I wish to discuss something with you as a matter of great importance to the felicity we share within our marriage._ Was he going to declare himself?

Her deliberation had her thinking of how long she had loved him? She pondered on the last few months, since their acquaintance, but could not identify a time or place, for it had been coming on so gradually, that she hardly knew when it had begun. She was brimming with the tender affection and had probably been so for some time.

She placed her palm flat against his chest so that she could feel the reassuring beat of his heart and fell to sleep next to him, exhausted from the calamity of the day.

* * *

Elizabeth was awoken the following morning by her hand being covered with another. She recognised the touch of her husband. She sprung up from her resting place and looked down at Darcy from above. But he was not awake or was there any signs of him stirring. Had he placed his hand on top of hers, or had she pushed her own hand under his in her sleep? She could not determine. She lay there, her eyes upon him in such a fixed vigilance, that even Prince Regent would be proud to call her his most diligent sentry guard if he were ever to award her such an opportunity. But as she continued to stare, she found herself lulled back into the comfort of his warmth and fell into a light sleep.

An hour went by before there was a gentle tap on the door. Elizabeth, who was still unclothed, had pulled the blanket to her chin and called to enter. As the door opened, she saw Georgiana standing there, puffy-eyed and blotchy faced; she had been crying. "Can I come in, Elizabeth?"

"Of course, but can you hand me my robe from on top of the ottoman. I am in rather a state of undress." Georgiana gasped as a bare arm and shoulder appeared from under the covers.

"You have no clothes on!"

"I thought it best for the body heat to permeate. Do not be alarmed; your brother is none the wiser." She did not wish to divulge that she had slept with her husband in such a way for nearly all the days that they had been married. The young lady turned around to allow Elizabeth to dress.

"Is there any change?"

"Not really. I thought he had grabbed my hand in the night, but after watching him this morning, I think I may have pushed it into his hold during my sleep. He has not stirred at all."

"He will wake up, will he not, Elizabeth? I do not know what I will do if he dies."

"He will not die, Georgie. I felt the same as you last night, but since the doctor said that he could find nothing wrong, I am forever hopeful that he will make a complete recovery."

"But what if he is wrong?"

"I doubt he would put his reputation on the line with such hopes if he felt there was a risk he was wrong, and I am sure the doctor has seen this before and knows that he will wake up in due course. It has only been a matter of a few hours, Georgie. He needs time to heal." Elizabeth had already returned to the bed, but Georgiana would not leave, hoping that she could sit with her brother for at least a short while. "Do you wish to read to him? I have read in books that patients, who are not awake, can sometimes hear us?" Then she remembered her declaration last night. Had he heard her tell him she loved him?

* * *

There had been no signs of improvements during the course of the day. In which time, Richard had returned, Georgiana had wept, and Elizabeth wished everyone would leave her alone with her husband but appreciated that they were all concerned. Elizabeth had been persuaded to remove herself long enough to have a bath and dress in a more appropriate attire as she doubted Darcy would have wanted Richard to see her in her nightgown. The family and even a few of the higher servants spent time reading to the master during the day, hoping that somewhere, in the depths of his mind, he was aware of all his surroundings and would wake.

By nightfall, everyone except Elizabeth retired. She sat on the bed, watching her husband as she had the night before in the glow of the candlelight, pleading with him to awaken. The day had been stressful; she felt herself weaken on more than one occasion and had to remove herself to the privacy of her own rooms for a few moments in order to compose herself once more. She could not let the world know that she was unable to handle the situation so wore a brave face, allowing everyone to see that Mrs Darcy was a strong mistress who could handle anything, but deep down Elizabeth was lost.


	26. Awakening

-0-

It was the second morning in which Elizabeth had awoken to her husband's stillness. As she leaned forward to take note of his comatose state, she noticed his eyes. In the morning light, she determined the movements under their delicate covers; a fluttering of lashes batting his cheeks, and a gentle squeeze of her hand, which clasped his; all indicating he was waking up.

"Fitzwilliam, it is Elizabeth, please wake up."

"Dear, Lord!" he croaked, "What has happened?" he said as he scrunched his brows in pain. "Why does my head hurt so much?"

"You have been in an accident. A branch came down in the storms, and we think it startled your horse and you fell. You've been unconscious since the day before yesterday."

Darcy opened his eyes very slowly; squinting in order to focus. "Why have no candles been lit? Elizabeth, why are you sitting with me in the dark?"

"What do you mean? It is quite bright in here."

Darcy remained silent for a few moments, but his stillness was gradually replaced with an increasing amount of trepidation. His body stiffened, initially when he discerned what had occurred, then his breathing became heightened as the seriousness of his condition ensued. "Elizabeth, I cannot see. I cannot see a damn thing!"

"What do you mean!? You cannot even see me!?" She tilted his head by grabbing at his chin and pulled it towards her, but he only stared into her direction with indistinct eyes. His gaze was positively myopic.

"I cannot see one jot!"

Without hesitation, she rang the bell cord above the bed for the housekeeper. When Mrs Reynolds was permitted to enter the room, Elizabeth moved towards the servant and quietly requested that Doctor Evans attend without delay, articulating that the master had awoken, but all was not well. Mrs Reynolds felt profoundly unnerved by the mistresses words, but would not beg for Elizabeth to elaborate upon what she had already offered. The Housekeeper quickly removed herself and sent the errand boy to fetch Doctor Evans from the village.

"Elizabeth… Do not leave me," said Darcy, after the housekeeper had left. Elizabeth was still removed from his side, and he wanted nothing more than to be able to touch her and so ensuring her presence.

"I have no intention of leaving you, Fitzwilliam. I will be right by your side, even when the doctor is here." She hurried back to the bed and as soon as he felt the dip of the mattress, he frantically searched for her hand. When found, he could do little more than to grapple it into his own, hoping her touch would diminish his growing anxiety and give him the courage to bear Dr Evans' prognosis. He would not release her, not even when the physician wished for privacy. His sole desire at that time was to not break the bond with the one person who had been able to bring forth a sense of calmness to the turbulent thoughts in his head.

"Well, Mr Darcy," the doctor sighed after he had examined his patient. The physician's exhalation had made both Darcy and Elizabeth flinch. Was it bad news? The doctor continued, "I have looked into your eyes, and I cannot see any cause for the blindness; there is no trauma to the optic nerves. I have seen this dozens of times in my career, and each patient recovered their sight, so I can advise you that the condition will be temporary."

"His sight will return? You are certain?" Elizabeth asked, just to make sure she understood, and that her husband was absorbing everything that had been spoken.

"That is correct, Mrs Darcy. Your husband should make a full recovery. I cannot say how long it will take, mind you. It could be hours, days, weeks or even months."

"Months! I cannot live like this!" Darcy exclaimed. "I need my sight back!"

"I am afraid, Mr Darcy, there is little I can do. How do you feel, besides your eyes?"

"I feel rather nauseous, and my head hurts."

"Ah, that is also to be expected. You will have to let mother nature take its course and heal you, sir. I would advise that you do not venture anywhere outdoors or do anything strenuous until your sight returns and you are fully recovered. Bed rest for at least this first week and try not to stress yourself too much. Is your steward able to cope on his own for the time being?"

"Yes, he is very competent. All my staff are excellent at their jobs."

"That is good to hear because I do not wish for you to lift a finger for this week. By the end of the week, your steward may take counsel, but you are not to go out and about doing your rounds."

"I do not have a blasted choice, for I cannot go out! I cannot see!"

"Fitzwilliam, please be patient. It is not the doctor's fault."

"No, it is mine! I should not have driven Neptune so hard in bad weather. The poor brute must have been foaming at the mouth when he returned."

"I do not know; I was too concerned that you were missing to notice the state of your horse."

"He is not hurt though; I would hate for him to be injured in any way."

"No he is not hurt," is all that Elizabeth could say. She thought on what she had said about the horse; the guilt now began to brew, Elizabeth wished her words had not spilt and remained in her own mind, but at the time, she needed to blame someone, and the steed seemed the easiest option.

After the doctor had taken his leave, Elizabeth lay down and took her husband into her arms, where she soothed his woes. "Close your eyes, dear. I am here, and all will be well."

"But what if it is not? What will happen if my eyesight does not return? I will no longer be able to run the estate, gaze upon my beautiful wife, or…" he paused then added with a considerable amount of uncertainty, "or watch our children grow. I will not even know their likeness."

Elizabeth hesitated before responding. Her heart almost broke on hearing his sobs, and she struggled to think of something that would give him strength. _What if he does not fully recover? What would happen then?_ Remembering what the physician had said, brought her some reassurance. She had to hold onto those few words for her own and her husband's sake. "Do not say that, Fitzwilliam. You heard the doctor as well as I."

"But what if he is wrong?"

"He has been a physician for several decades and witnessed this occurrence dozens of times; he said so himself. I doubt he would have misled you into thinking you would fully recover when you would not. His professional reputation will be ruined if he was to tell the master of Pemberley falsehoods."

Elizabeth held her husband for over an hour, hearing his quiet snuffles indicating he was still awake. By the time the clock had struck one in the afternoon, Darcy had fallen fast asleep after shifting to a more comfortable position. His respite allowed his wife to remove herself from the bed and at least dress, as she had little chance to that morning. _Dear lord!_ she thought, _Dr Evans saw me in my nightgown._

* * *

Three days had passed, and Darcy was as irritable as ever. Elizabeth had likened him to a dog who had had his favourite bone taken away for no reason, although he was more rambunctious than an overactive puppy. "No, I do not want to be read to! By you reading, it will remind me that I cannot!… Elizabeth?! Where are you?!"

"I am here, at the end of the bed. So you do not wish for me to read?"

"No, I just said so! Can you not pay attention?!"

"Please do not take your mood out on me. I only asked if you would wish to while away the hours in some sort of entertainment."

"Then come here, and I will show you entertainment," he grinned.

"Mr Darcy! How very mercurial you have been these past days. I will have no more of your mood swings; I want my husband back."

"Then, come here."

"It has not yet been a week, and you were told specifically to get bed rest for a sennight. I cannot go against the doctor's orders."

"Well, we will be in bed, so you are not specifically going against his orders."

"But you will not be resting. Fitzwilliam, please, I beg of you."

"Oh, begging? I like begging… You can do all the work. I will just lie here and imagine you riding me like the brute of a stallion that I am." Darcy threw back his covers and scrambled to the end of the bed, flaring his arms out and around him, hoping to make contact.

"You will not succeed in your efforts to grab me. I will just move when you come close," Elizabeth stated as she jumped off of the bed. Luckily for her, her husband could not see her expression. She thought it all rather fun that he would not be able to catch her.

"Elizabeth! I am your husband, and you vowed to obey me on our wedding day. Now, obey me!" he shouted, then huffed and fell back onto the bed with a bounce. "Please?"

She returned to his side and innocently nestled up to him, hoping that she would comfort his mood rather than his ardour, which had been building steadily from the second day of his incarceration. But Elizabeth had been a dunderhead in her opinion. "No!" she snapped at his hand, as it wandered into the direction of her bosom. "I know what you are doing, Fitzwilliam. If you do not stop, I will leave you in the capable hands of Roger, and he will sit with you, whilst I go down and take tea with Georgiana."

"No! Do not leave me. I am sorry. It is just… _grrrrr_!"

"I know you are bored out of your mind, but you know what the-"

"Yes! Yes! The doctor has ordered rest," he huffed once more.

"Do you want me to ask Georgiana to play her pianoforte in her room. We can have the doors open and listen to your favourite pieces."

"I suppose, that is if you are not to comfort me."

"But I am. I am keeping you company. Is that not comfort enough."

"You know what I mean. I want favours!" Darcy frowned and Elizabeth witnessed the return of his mood.

 _Mercurial!_

* * *

The week's confinement had passed, and the situation had not improved. If anything, Darcy's mood had been gathering storm the longer he was made to rest. He was bored, he was aggravated by his blindness, he was concerned that said blindness could be permanent, but lastly, Darcy was concupiscent, and Elizabeth refused him his due. It was getting to the point that even his wife's patience was being tested to the fullest with his constant demands.

It was nearly noon on the seventh day when Georgiana had taken to keeping her brother company. Elizabeth had allowed herself a brief sabbatical to enable her to do some of her duties, without the interruptions of a less than happy patient. "Fitzwilliam?"

"What is the matter, Georgie?" he asked. He could sense the hesitation, even in just saying his name.

"I did not mention it before, but did you know that Elizabeth was going to have Neptune destroyed?"

"What?!" he sat up in bed sharply at his sister's words.

"The night you were found. She said she wanted him gone. It was only through Richard and myself talking her around that she gave in."

"Are you sure?" he could not believe his ears. How could his wife kill an innocent animal and a most beloved one at that?

"She said she wanted it gone because it had thrown and injured you twice this year. Richard tried to persuade her not to shoot the thing, but Elizabeth was adamant she wanted it gone."

"How dare she order my horse be shot!" Darcy was angry.

"I stood against her decision and told her that she couldn't, then she pulled rank and told me that she was the mistress. She was seething at me, brother. But… but then she fell to the floor, and Richard sent me to bed. I did not want to go, but he told me I would be needed in the morning and to get rest, so I left."

"So, you do not know if she changed her mind?"

"Oh, she will not shoot it. Richard said that she had retracted her decision."

"Georgiana, I want to be left alone. I am tired and need to sleep," was all that Darcy stated. He needed to think things through before confronting his wife, but how could he believe his wife would do such a thing? He had little choice other than to try and not mull it over until he allowed Elizabeth to explain herself.

* * *

Darcy woke about an hour later, the room was quiet, but he could smell Elizabeth's perfume. "Are you in here, Elizabeth?" he stated firmly. His anger had not diminished, and he needed to get to the bottom of this revelation his sister had disclosed.

"Yes, I am sitting in the chair." She leaned forward and touched his hand, but he snapped it away, causing his wife's confusion.

"Georgiana has told me what you were going to do to Neptune. How could you!?"

"Fitzwilliam. I was not in a good place. You were unconscious, and the doctor indicated the horse probably threw you."

"But to deprive me of my own steed?! How could you do that to me?!"

"I said it in the heat of the moment!"

"It only takes a moment to pull the trigger! Then, there is no reversing your decision as it would have been final!"

"Pull the trigger?"

"You were going to get someone to shoot it, dead! And probably sell it off to make glue!"

"I would not have done that. I wanted the horse taken away."

"Taken away? Georgie told me you were going to shoot the thing!"

"Shoot it! I said no such thing!"

"Are you calling my sister a liar?"

"Are you calling me, your wife, a liar, sir!?" He said nothing. "Either way, sir, one of us is not telling the truth, and it is not me!"

"Then why did my sister say you were going to shoot it?"

"I do not know! Richard was the only person who mentioned shooting and that was an assumption on his part. I said I was going to get rid of it and that was before I collapsed on the floor, in another bout of hysteria, BECAUSE MY HUSBAND COULD HAVE DIED!" She took a few deep breaths before continuing. "I would not have even sold the horse, let alone kill it. I was in a desperate state; you were lying in your bed, and for all I knew, you might not have survived! I needed to blame someone or something, and the horse seemed an ideal scapegoat at the time." Elizabeth was crying at this point but soldiered on with her explanation. "I would never have put you through that; You love that animal." She stopped there, realising that he probably loved that horse more than he did her. He had insinuated she had lied and that his sister, who was immature for her age, had told the absolute truth. "I am going to my rooms, I need some time alone," she mumbled before she left via the sitting room.

Darcy remained in bed, alone in his room for some time. It had then dawned on him that his sister had miscomprehended his wife's outburst, assuming it was one of malice. But now he realised that Elizabeth had only lashed out in desperation, clinging onto something that would help her in her then frenetic state. There was no deep-seated meanness in her words, only those of a woman in despair and whose thoughts were aberrant at best. How could he have been such a brute for not believing her? For his sister had been known before to have upended a conversation to complete nonsense. Why would this be any different?

With a heavy heart, he rose from his bed and trundled across the sitting room with all attempts to not bump into the furniture in his path. "Elizabeth?" he asked with much reparation in his voice. "I am sorry. I think Georgie has got the whole thing wrong. I do believe you, but after hearing what she had said, I could only think of what would have happened if…"

"But it would not have happened, Fitzwilliam. I would not have deprived you of that animal. He means more to you than… than… Oh, it does not matter!"

"Then you will forgive me for my outburst?" he said as he wandered over to her.

"I do not know. Not yet, anyway. I am sorry, Fitzwilliam, but I want to be left alone. This past week has been taxing enough without your accusations… Just leave me be for a short while. I will come to you later when I am myself once more."

He wanted to step forward and kiss her, hoping his caress would make it all better, but he knew he was not going to be forgiven that easily. So he turned to leave the room, but when he reached the connecting door, he stopped to think. The past week he had only thought of himself and not what his wife would have been going through. He did not turn, but cast his head to the floor and uttered, "Please forgive me, my darling. I am such a clodhopper, and a selfish one at that."

Then he was gone.


	27. Comforting Darcy

-0-

By nightfall, Elizabeth had settled her thoughts on what her husband had said earlier in the day. The argument was not worth the trouble of continuing, for he had apologised most humbly as he left the room, and there was no reason to reexamine the matter, for it would not give her an ounce of pleasure in doing so. However, this had given Elizabeth a new understanding that maybe her husband was not so emotionally involved as she first thought. _He would not doubt my word if he truly loved me,_ she thought. _Even if he believes me now, he did not on first hearing his sister_ _'_ _s accusations, and that speaks for itself._ She knew that she would have to temper her affections and safeguard herself against his charms; a mental brick wall to barricade herself to any adulations that may manifest from his attentions would hopefully keep her from the perils of a broken heart. It would be difficult, but she was determined to achieve this to no end. She could be a dutiful wife and take pleasure in their time together without being a lovesick woman hankering after someone who did not care. Little did she realised at the time, but this would be too ambitious of a scheme to achieve, and over the course of several weeks that followed, she would come to acknowledge her failure and relish in the warm glow that bathed her.

As Elizabeth entered the master bedchambers, she noticed Richard asleep in the chair beside her husband, who was also in repose. She observed two glasses on the bedside table and assumed that they were both in a drunken stupor. Pondering on the idea of her husband confiding in his cousin gave her some amount of calm; at least he had a confidant to make him see sense and call him a fool. All she had was Hannah, and it would not do to be discussing such matters with the servants, even if she was her lady's maid. She could not even talk of it with her new sister, as she had been the instigator and no doubt oblivious to the disquiet which had been caused by her hand.

She came and sat down on the edge of the bed, watching Darcy in his sleep. Elizabeth's heart melted instantly; how could she be upset with him when all this had come from a sixteen-year-old girl, who should have known better than to tittle-tattle? Had he not been through enough for the past several days with the loss of his sight? She felt a tugging pull deep inside, urging her to wake him so that they could make it all well again, but she knew he would be in no fit state to have a serious discussion with the hopes of putting it all behind them. Besides, she needed her wall of strength against his ardour to remain standing, and not be pummeled to the ground before the mortar had time to set.

Richard woke up as Elizabeth sighed. "Oh! You are here?"

"Where else would I be?" she asked quietly, still in thought.

"Darcy said you wanted to rest in your own room tonight, as you were not well."

"Did he say why?" Richard cast her a sympathetic expression. "I suppose you think me an evil creature for even contemplating the removal of Neptune," she sighed.

"On the contrary. Do not forget that I was there when you so unceremoniously declared you wanted rid; I could see you were desperate and did not mean it. I told Darcy he was an idiot for not asking me before approaching you so that I could clarify the situation; he could have saved everyone a headache."

"Well, he did not. He took his sister's word over mine, and I felt like I was playing second fiddle to Georgiana when he questioned me. Now I know exactly where I stand." She closed her eyes when she heard her own words. Yes, she was second best, and that is where she was likely to remain. Blood was thicker than water and no doubt he would always take his sister's side in an argument.

Richard ignored her words, as he knew she was feeling hurt; he did not wish to ponder on the negatives but wanted to emphasise how needless the whole matter had been. "He should not have gone off cocksure before he knew the facts; he was not thinking logically, Elizabeth. Georgiana is still young and can misinterpret things quite easily. She had done so before and sent my mother on a fool's errand only to discover it was complete and utter nonsense."

"Well, she better start growing up if she is to be presented at court in a little over a year. She would not wish to misinterpret any suitors advances and find she marries the wrong man."

"Darcy is sending her away to finishing school. She will have a year at Mrs MacFaden's School for Girls in Yorkshire and come home for holidays. Darcy was going to allow her to stay at Pemberley until her coming out so that she could practice her music, but now he is determined to send her off."

"He said that?" Elizabeth was shocked; he was punishing his sister.

"We both discussed it, as I have guardianship over Georgiana too. We think it will do her good as she has been sheltered far too much; she will mix with other ladies of the same age, and hopefully, her social skills will improve. This will, I believe, make her debut into society less daunting."

"Is he angry with his sister? I do not wish to cause a rift between them. I know she did wrong, but I do not believe she did it with any amount of evil intent. She is just young and naive."

"He is more angry with himself for mollycoddling her. We have both cossetted Georgiana since my uncle passed on. We have done her no favours, and maybe a firmer hand in the form of a schoolmistress will do wonders; she is not so young to know right from wrong. There is only five years difference between you both and look how you have survived the ordeals of recent years with your father's illness, then his passing. You could not have been much older than Georgie when your father started to show signs of his illness."

"I was not. I suppose there was only us both, so I had to grow up quickly in order to take control of estate matters… Do you think your decision will make Georgie hate me? Will she blame me for banishing her from Pemberley."

"She will not. It was my and Darcy's decision, and if she asks, she will be told that it had nothing to do with you."

"She will not see it that way. I am sure she will blame me for everything."

"But she was in the wrong and will be told that. Besides, I think she may quite enjoy being with other girls of her own age, and it will not be forever; I am almost sure she knows one or two of the borders already at the school. The holidays are quite generous, so she will not be away for more than a few weeks at a time, and it is close enough for the odd visit."

Elizabeth let out a sigh. "Richard, I do not mean to be rude, but I am quite tired."

"Oh blast, you should have said before. I need to retire myself as I am to leave early tomorrow. I have a dinner invitation, which I cannot break and have to return to Matlock beforehand."

"Oh, Miss Rebecca Davenport?"

"Yes, and I am going to approach her father for permission," he grinned. "I may return as a betrothed man."

"Well, I wish you the best of luck, cousin."

"I do not think I will need it. Sir Thomas is keen enough for me to attend his daughter and my own parents are eager. Beckie… I mean Miss Rebecca has not withheld her feelings towards me, so I do not think there will be any issues."

"Once you are engaged, you must bring her here for a visit. We could hold a dinner party."

"That is a splendid idea, but after Mr Grumpy has recovered," he said as he took his leave.

* * *

It had gone midnight when Elizabeth was awoken by a flurry of kisses. Her husband had stirred from his sleep minutes before to find her next to him. His relief at her returning to his bed was a panacea to the guilt he had felt since he left her rooms. Now he found her, asleep, beside him and he could not help himself.

His kisses were a mixture of tenderness and a heartfelt plea, hoping that she would forgive him for such behaviour. "Elizabeth, I am sorry, so sorry. Please forgive me," he repeated again and again between each buss. "I do not know what came over me. I trusted your word from the start and did not doubt you for one minute."

Elizabeth said nothing, but Darcy could feel her cheeks dampen as he continued to worship her. "Please do not cry." She still spoke not a word but snuggled into his embrace, where they both fell back to sleep, content that at least each had forgiven the other for the harsh words that passed between them.

* * *

That morning had seen both Darcy and Elizabeth accept their argument as a fruitless cause and acceded to make amends. Although she was still of a mind to bridle her womanly sentiments, she knew that reparation was required for them to move past this stumbling block. She did not wish to hinder their recovery, so decided to indulge her husband and service his needs, which would also make him less cantankerous and more congenial towards everyone.

She gently removed herself from the bed and silently locked the door before disrobing. As her husband had not awoken during the unceremonious shedding of her garb, she managed to settle back into his embrace and fell back to sleep.

The sun's glow had flooded in through the east-facing windows; the golden rays of light shone across her face when she began to stir from her slumber. Elizabeth felt the most incredible feeling, for her husband had preceded her in awakening yet again and had found his spouse to be in a somewhat delicious state of undress next to him. He could not resist and was now sucking her breast, teasing her nipples with his teeth as he began to devour her. "Oh, Elizabeth," was all that Darcy could muster on recognising her change in her breathing, and so alerting him to her cognizant state. She placed her arm around his back and allowed her fingers to venture up the line of his spine and into his hair, where she caressed the back of his scalp as he gloried in her body. "Do you forgive me? Tell me, please, that you forgive me," he breathed into the dip of her neck as he kissed the delicate skin behind her ear.

"Yes," she exhaled just before their lips touched.

Now a clement atmosphere existed between husband and wife, Darcy's heartfelt apologies and Elizabeth's acquiescence had healed the ferment between them. There was little point to dwell on something that would cause neither of them felicity in their marriage, and both wished for the tension that surrounded them to dissolve. However, Georgiana was not best pleased when Darcy took to informing her of his and Richard's decision. _You are sending me away because you no longer love me,_ she had said. Darcy infused that it was because he loved her that he was sending her to finishing school and that it would help her debut into society when the time came.

Elizabeth had attempted to bridge the gap in their friendship. Georgiana did not know what to think, but accepted the smiles and caring attention that Mrs Darcy had given her, for Georgiana was not aware of the repercussions that her idle tongue had caused between the married couple.

* * *

Darcy was sitting at the small table in the private sitting room the following day when Elizabeth returned from speaking with Mrs Reynolds. He was attempting to write some instructions for his housekeeper, which he hoped to keep above his wife's notice. "Darling?" Elizabeth called as she came into the room. "What on earth?" she exclaimed as she spotted the upturned chair, which she guessed her husband had bumped into and then ignored after upending it. Elizabeth approached the table, where he sat, but stopped when she saw his attempt to hide the missive he had been writing. She could not prevent a laugh from escaping when she beheld what he had penned.

"What humours you? Have you not seen a man write a note before?"

"It is not that, Fitzwilliam. You have made rather a terrible mess of things." She looked down at his inky stained fingers and the blotches of black liquid across the page and up his shirt sleeves. "You could give Mr Bingley a run for his money. I do not think Roger will be best pleased with the state of your shirt; the cuffs are blackened as soot. I will not even describe the drips of ink across the desk."

"Is it that bad? Maybe I should have used a pencil."

"Well, I can only read a few words, which are rather large by the way. _Do you anticipate to use several sheets per sentence?_ I can read… Reynolds… Basket… And, oh! Apple pie?"

"You have ruined my surprise. I wanted to have a picnic laid out on the lawn for afternoon tea. I thought of slipping Reynolds the request when you were not looking."

"But how would you know that I was not looking?"

"Erm? I do not know," he frowned.

"I am sorry that I spoilt your treat… In all fairness, it is rather cold to be sitting on the ground now. The weather has turned wintry over the past week."

"I would not know." His sombre tone did not go amiss on his wife.

"Fitzwilliam. It has only been a fortnight, and you heard the doctor. It may take weeks or even months; please do not fret." He took a deep breath and smiled, but Elizabeth could see that his expression was not genuine as the turn of his lips did not reach his eyes. He was putting on a brave face. "Come, let us take a leisurely stroll around the gardens now and have our tea in the parlour. If I hold your arm, I can guide you, and we can go as slow as you wish."

"But I may trip."

"Take one of Georges walking canes to steady yourself. There are enough in the stand in the vestibule, so you may as well use them. Did he leave them behind by mistake?"

"We keep a stock here in case he wanted to sit in the small gardens, which he can just about manage. Mrs Peters used to push him here in the chair, but he kept forgetting to bring his own cane, so we kept one or two at the main house. Then he remembered to bring it, only to forget when he went home, so the number grew. I suppose I will have to send them back to him, now that he is to marry and move away."

Darcy had received a letter from Wickham the day before, and Roger had read it out to him. He knew his childhood friend well and how he wrote his missives, so refused to allow Elizabeth to read his profanities, for they were not what a woman's eyes should gaze upon.

The wedding had been set for the following week, and Richard would attend, but Georgiana was to start school by then and was unable to go. Darcy was still poorly, and it was agreed that he remained at Pemberley with Elizabeth.

Wickham, on reading the note from Richard, almost postponed the ceremony in order to return to Pemberley, but Caroline Bingley would not allow it, stating that there was nothing he could do to assist his friend. In her mind, the sooner they were wed, the sooner she would be living in close proximity to Mr Darcy, and if he were to remain blind, she could pass herself off as Elizabeth and have her way. Little did she realise that she would be living a distance from the grand estate, and far away from Darcy's thoughts. Luckily, Darcy had already sought out a house in Bath before his accident, which was only on lease until Wickham found a more suitable establishment.

"Do you think he will stay away forever?" Elizabeth stated as they walked the path next to the rose garden.

"If he returns, then Caroline will be with him. Do you think I want her to be here when she will only throw insults in both our directions? I would imagine we are the last people on this earth she would care to be in the company of now."

"Why do you say that about you? Yes, I can understand her behaviour towards me, for I am the woman who stole you out of her clasp."

"She never had me in her clasp. I would never have succumbed to her… charms. Besides, she will soon discover that I arranged the house in Bath and urged Wickham to take her. She will undoubtedly be mad at me for pushing her so far away."

"But you are doing only what you thought best. George wanted to be in Bath, and she wanted to marry him. How was he to know why she wanted to marry him. For all he knew, she loved him."

"Wickham discovered her plan. He overheard Miss Bingley talking to Mrs Hurst one morning, after arriving at Hurst's house. Wickham had to wait whilst she readied herself, but she did not realise her voice had travelled the length of the house and into his earshot. He was half expecting something, but to hear that she still wished to pursue me after their marriage did not sit well with him. By that time, he had already proposed, and as you know, he loves her enough to forgive her."

"So what did she say exactly?"

"He was very obliging with the details in his letter. Even made Roger stagger on his reading once or twice."

"Well?"

"Oh, Elizabeth, do you really want to know?"

"Yes, she has been very underhand, and I would like to know all that she had planned if her scheme had worked. Do not keep it from me."

"Very well. Miss Bingley planned to marry him so that she could live close to Pemberley, presumably in Primrose Cottage. Then, once settled, she would attempt to seduce me. She even confessed that she would have welcomed my child into her womb as she thought Wickham unable to… get it up. She thought that if I sired an issue with her, then she would be bound to me for life."

"No!" Elizabeth gasped.

"It would have never happened. Do you think I could be tempted with that woman's seductive ways; she repulses me."

"She could have so easily taken advantage if you were inebriated. She could have pretended to be me and had her way with you in the library, whilst I waited for you in our bed!"

"Now you are letting your imagination run away with you. The only woman I want is you," he smiled. "Now, can I tempt you to lift your hem when we return to the house?"

"But was I not enough this morning?"

"Darling, I am catching up on my fortnight's abstinence," he laughed.

Darcy's pace quickened to an alarming speed as he walked the perimeter of the house and entered his study via the patio doors. "Is there anyone in here?" he called out. Elizabeth had looked around and confirmed they were alone. At which point he pulled her into the room, shut the full-length windows and fell to his knees and rucked up her hem.

Elizabeth felt weak as her husband started to pay her particular attention, so much so, that she could do nothing but clasp firmly onto his head before she fell backwards onto the floor. His tongue was soft and wet, and he applied to her with such savage fierceness that Elizabeth was at risk of screaming out her pleasures, which would alert the house to their private tryst. "Fitzwilliam, I need to sit before I fall!" she exclaimed through heavy breaths.

They both manoeuvred a short distance until she was seated in the armchair next to the fire and Darcy was on all fours between her legs. "Swing your legs over the arms of the chair!" he growled, before burrowing his face into her quim. This new position allowed him to push his fingers into her wetness and rub the sweet spot deep inside.

"Good Lord! I need to… I think I am going to…" And with that, she felt an instant surge of wetness cover her. Darcy moaned with appreciation and lapped up the goodness she had offered him and continued his onslaught of her netherend.

As he continued to tip the velvet, she felt the build as she had done numerous times before. But before she fell into the abyss of exuberant delight, they were interrupted. "Brother? Where are you?" Darcy jerked away, panting, then scrambled to his feet, but nearly crashed the back of his head into his wife's chin as she attempted to stand. Georgiana was in the vestibule and possibly on her way to the study.

"In here, Georgie, but can you give me a moment. I am not… presentable," he replied before wiping his face with the hem of Elizabeth's skirt. "Are you well, Elizabeth? I did not hurt you?"

"No, but Fitzwilliam!"

"What is wrong?"

"You were not wrong in your assumption of not being presentable. I think you need a moment or six."

"Oh! Dear God! Is it that obvious?" He felt his loin, and yes, it was quite a bunchage and possibly approaching a pitched tent in his loose trousers.

"I believe you will frighten Georgiana with what I can see," she laughed. "Sit down here, and I will sit on your lap. She will not mind that, surely?" she advised before plopping herself down onto his thighs. He groaned.

"Are you well yet?" a voice called from outside.

"Yes, come in, sister."

"Oh! Elizabeth. I… I am sorry. Do you wish for me to leave?"

"No, Elizabeth was just checking my… hair?"

"For nits and lice?" Georgiana asked with a grimace.

"No, it needs a cut. I do not think it has been cut for several months."

"Oh, yes, it is rather long now, Fitzwilliam… I just came to tell you that Richard is at the stables. He has some news, apparently." Both Elizabeth and Darcy smiled, they knew that it must be good, or Richard would not have arrived so suddenly. He had dined with the Davenports, and they both knew he was likely to pop the question to the delectable Miss Rebecca.

"Darcy! Elizabeth! Georgie! Anyone home?!" came a call from the vestibule.

"In the study," Darcy shouted out.

"Oh, glad to see you all together, it will save me repeating myself," he grinned.

"Out with it, are you to marry?" Darcy asked.

"Of course I am." This made Georgiana squeal with delight. "Do you think my love would have refused me?"

"If I were she, I would have," Darcy jeered.

"If you were Miss Davenport, I would not have asked," Richard responded. "Oh, Elizabeth, are you comfortable?" he jovially asked when he saw the lady upon his cousin's lap.

"She was checking for wildlife," Georgiana giggled.

"I was not!" Elizabeth smiled. "I do not believe this is the softest of seats, for it seems all rather lumpy to me. Not a very decent settlement at all," she chuckled, but Darcy hushed her up.

"Well, you can continue with your lumpy pew whilst I go change. Georgie, can you ask Mrs Reynolds to get a bath ready for me, I need to wash the road away; I feel rather disgusting. Then we can have a proper celebration."

Richard coaxed Georgiana out of the room, and as soon as the door closed, Darcy told his wife to turn the key. This time there would be no stopping him.


	28. To Declare or Not

-0-

"I see you and Elizabeth have made amends," Richard stated once the gentlemen had departed from the ladies after dinner that evening.

"I think we both realised it as some terrible misunderstanding. Elizabeth is still not herself, though, and I have determined that to be in relation to my predicament and the stress it has caused her."

"No change with the eyes, then?"

"No, it has only been two weeks," he sighed.

"It will return, Darcy, I saw this sort of thing over in France. Observed a man get knocked to the ground so violently that I am sure it rattled his brain around his skull. He lost his sight, but it returned after a few weeks; that was just before father pulled me back from the battlefields… I take it you have not discussed the elephant in the room?"

"What elephant?"

"The one where you love your wife. What did you think I meant, that there was an actual elephant in the room?"

"I have not told her. I do not wish to announce my feelings at the present time," Darcy huffed.

"Why ever not? I thought you were determined after our last discussion."

"I cannot see, and the last thing I want to do is declare my feelings and not be able to see her reaction. It is something I want to cherish for the rest of my life."

"I suppose there is that. But you will tell Elizabeth? Eventually?"

"I cannot not tell her. But… we need to get things back to how they were before the accident."

"And they are not? You looked pretty cosy to me this morning."

"I do not feel comfortable as we are and fear it is more on Elizabeth's side than my own. The argument has caused something to change between us, and I do not know what it is."

"You, taking Georgiana's word hurt her terribly; that probably did the trick."

"How do you know that? Has she said something?"

"I cannot say, she has not given me leave to discuss our conversation… But Darcy, you need to be more careful at how you approach people, especially your wife."

"I do."

"You do not. You are too presumptuous, even the Earl has noticed on occasion." Richard saw the shock on his cousin's face. "It was not any incivility you had directed towards my father, but sometimes our disagreements causes him to wince. He has told me he would like to clip you… well, both of us round our ears.

"Remember, Fitzwilliam, this life you have together is all new to the both of you. You have always been your own master, and now you have to think of another before you act. Consider how this is all for Elizabeth; in the space of six months, she has lost her father, lost her home, married a stranger, moved away from the only remaining relatives she has and now you are disabled. Even if it is temporary, it is still stressful. You have family around you; she has none."

"She has me, you and Georgie."

"Yes, and look who told you of what Elizabeth had said and how you reacted to that information. I saw her that night after you quarrelled, and she looked almost broken-hearted but was prepared to put it behind her."

"She is still upset then? After I apologised?"

"A few words will not make things right. I believe your wife has tried not to remember as the occasion does not give her pleasure. She blamed herself; she wished she had not spoken those words in the first instance."

"Maybe she is right."

"That is harsh, Darcy, coming from someone who says what he wants, when he wants. She was bordering on madness when she spoke those words. I would put my last shilling on the fact that Georgiana did not divulge that piece of information to you." Darcy bowed his head to the floor with remorse, she had not, and he had not even considered how those words were delivered. "I do not think something like that would heal itself overnight. Even if you wanted it to, you would still feel the effects of it after you think everything is back to how it was. You have just got to make sure she knows that you regret your words and she is first and foremost on your thoughts," Richard said remembering the comment Elizabeth had made about playing second fiddle to Georgiana.

"I just hope to god that Elizabeth, deep down, does forgive me."

"She will. Georgiana certainly has. What has her so pleased? I thought she would be upset at the thought of going to school, but she was all smiles today."

"Ah!"

"What have you done, Darce?" Darcy grimaced. "Out with it, what have you promised her this time?"

"A new pianoforte."

"What?! You are seriously in need of a slap. You are sending her away because of what she did and that we have both spoilt her too much, then in the next breath you reward her with a substantial and expensive gift; something which is not needed as you already have four instruments in this house. Tell me, is it the one she was hankering after this summer? The one in town?"

"Yes."

"Good god, man. That thing was over a thousand guineas!"

"I know. But what else could I do? She was so upset with me; I had to-"

"Spoil her?"

"Do not judge me, Richard. She is the only close family I have."

"I beg to differ; you have Elizabeth and you would do well to remember that! Your wife should come first, above all."

Darcy flinched at those harsh words but knew that his cousin was correct.

* * *

 **Darcy House, London**

It had been a quiet and simple ceremony when Miss Caroline Bingley became Mrs George Wickham. Her brother was in attendance along with the Hursts, the Viscount and a few other acquaintances, who were still in Town.

By ten that evening, Caroline Wickham was sitting at the dressing table in the adjoining guest rooms at Darcy House, where Wickham had remained after the Darcy wedding. She was feeling rather pleased with herself, for she now had an impotent husband, who would not bother her, and a house on the doorstep of Pemberley. Any children she knew she would bear would undoubtedly be of Darcy descent, and if her husband took a grievance to that fact, then he could go jump in Pemberley's lake.

"Ma'am, if you please," the maid announced awkwardly as she came into the room. "The master is requesting your presence in his bedchambers."

"Whatever do you mean, girl? What does he want at this hour?" she asked with some amount of agitation at having been disturbed by the maid, who was now looking dumbfounded at such a question; was it not the woman's wedding night? Caroline tutted, dismissed the servant, and made her way to Wickham's rooms. She quietly knocked and entered when she heard her husband's bid.

"Ah, Caroline, there you are. I wondered what had happened to you," Wickham smiled, as he sat on the edge of the bed in a deep blue robe gifted to him by the Darcys.

"I was about to go to bed, sir, what do you wish to see me about?" she queried innocently, thinking she would go straight to sleep after such a long day.

"Caroline?" he puzzled, "We are husband and wife. I wish to bed you and make you mine."

"What!? But… but surely you are unable to!?" came her shocked reply. At hearing such a proclamation, she staggered to the end of the bed in order to support herself by means of holding onto the bedpost.

"How in god's name did you reach that conclusion? You knew what your duties were as a wife when you accepted me."

"But Miss Darcy led me to believe you were not interested in women; you would not make such an ideal husband, she said. I surmised that you could not… you know… due to your troubles."

"Georgiana knows nothing of the marriage bed; she is all but sixteen. And you have assumed too much, Mrs Wickham. If you had asked, I would have gladly told you that my troubles are that I have difficulty walking, my prick still works fine."

"Sir! Do not use such vulgar language!"

"Why ever not?" he laughed, finding her shock on his language quite amusing.

"I do not-" she stopped, too hesitant to continue. Something deep inside of her was screaming out to curb her behaviour, as she knew her husband now had the upper hand in their unusual relationship. He was not her brother, who was able to be manipulated to her whim. Heaven forbid, he would refuse her her pin money, or worse still, lock her away in some isolated stone cottage in the remote and abandoned islands in a far off land, never to be seen again.

"Caroline, come sit beside me." She gingerly moved towards him and sat down. "Why do think I married you?" he asked.

"I… I do not know… Companionship?" she replied, but she was too deep in thought to say any more. _Has he wanted to bed me all this time?_

"Carrie, look at me, please," he spoke softly as he took hold of her chin and pulled her to face him. He looked into her now tear-filled eyes, wondering what was upsetting her so. Did she find the whole idea of laying with him abhorrent? Did she think of him as hideous? Although his body was not in good working order, his physique was fine, for his upper body was overly muscular and his leg muscles still fairly well defined due to the daily exercises he had to attend to. Overall, he was still quite a pleasing specimen of a man. "Do you realise what you mean to me?" he asked.

"Now knowing you are able to… I can only surmise that I am an easy way to get your pleasures… Plus my dowry," she whispered as she turned her head away in shame thinking that she was now some glorified wench who had allowed her brother to sell her off to any bidder that came along, just so that she was out of the way.

This shocked Wickham; he had not realised that she thought so little of him, or herself. "I love you. Do you not know how I feel?"

At his declaration, Caroline's reaction was great. "What?! You love me? But… but you cannot, for nobody has ever loved me."

Wickham could not believe that no one had taken Caroline into their hearts. Yes, as a grown adult, she could be somewhat sharp, but surely as a child, she would have been loved. "Nobody? I find that hard to believe."

"It is true. Those words are the first I have heard, which have not been directed at somebody else. Neither mother or father declared that they loved me. They were too eager to send me off to my nanny or governess and days would pass before I would see them again, only to be chastised for something I had done the previous day. My bad behaviour was usually to do with my attempts to get their attention."

"You misbehaved to receive their affection?"

She nodded. "They paid no particular attention to me, though. I was the second daughter of three children and last to be born. I was not wanted, I was not needed, I was just a burden to them and a result of their inability to keep apart."

"But what about your sister and brother, surely they appreciate you as a sister?" Wickham asked.

"Louisa is too serious and set in her ways. I think she takes after mother in that respect; Charles just tolerates me. I have ached for his brotherly love, but it was never to be. He only supported me as it was his duty and there was no other option. Not until I was married or turned the age of five and twenty, then my inheritance would have been transferred into my control, and I would have been cast aside; he made that quite clear a few years ago. Look how eager he was for you to marry me. Do not think me a simpleton to not claim knowledge of the extra five thousand pounds he added to my dowry. Such a sweetener and you took it."

"I would have taken you for much less, Carrie. Mr Bingley probably wants to settle himself, and it would have been impossible for you and the new Mrs Bingley to live in the same house."

"I was hoping he would never marry. I had to keep him from attempting any courtship so that I could stay and play hostess. As soon as Charles became interested in a woman, so much so that he wanted to settle, I would separate them in one way or another. I hoped he would turn his brotherly affections to me, but alas he just went onto the next, then the next, and so on."

"So all those interventions were you trying to make your brother take notice of his sibling?" she nodded. "What about your letter to Mrs Darcy?" Wickham did not miss her reaction; it was one of shock. "Did you not think I knew about it? Darcy told me, and he was furious with you."

"I did not realise he knew. What did he say?" she asked. "No! On second thoughts, please do not tell me, I think I know," she said as she leaned into her husband's side and started to sob. "Forgive me, George."

"Do you love him, Carrie?"

Caroline thought long and hard about how she felt before answering. She had tried to get his attentions for many years, but he had shown no interest. Why did Caroline pursue such a man who only turned away her attentions? Was that such a lover whom she wished to entrust her heart to? "I thought I did. I realise now that he showed me in so many ways of his disinterest, but I needed to make him want me. I wanted to be his world; I am now unsure if he was what I really wanted, or was it just the turn of his head I desired and a need for his worship. I am now unsure if he was what I hungered for, or just someone to…"

"To love you?"

She nodded.

"But you have that from me." Wickham took her into his arms, and she graciously submitted. As he repeated those three little words, Caroline's heart stirred. There she was, in the arms of a man, who had offered her what she had always craved, affection, love, and devotion; she should have realised it from the start. He had paid her particular attention at every opportunity and at the time she did delight in his charms. Darcy had almost turned his back on her at every move, whereas Wickham had turned _her_ towards _him._

She pulled away from his embrace only enough to gaze up and look into his eyes, which were so warm and tender. She felt an odd sensation that filled her; she could only describe it as a soothing balm to wash away all the unhappiness she had endured at the hands of those who did not care. "Make love to me, George," she whispered. Her gaze fixed to his soft amber eyes, for she could now see the devotion in them, something that she had neglected to notice before.

"Are you sure?" he asked softly. "We can wait until you are truly ready. I will not force you into something you do not desire."

"But I do desire. I wish to please you, husband."

"But, do you wish to be pleased yourself?"

"I do not know. I understood that it would not be so pleasant for the wife. A man has needs, and the woman has her duty." She then realised she would have to bear him children. She looked back up at him and thought, _would that be such a bad thing, for he is rather handsome?_

"Carrie?"

"Yes… I have wasted my life trying to get people to love me, and now the man beside me is wanting to bestow that love upon me. A man who has a kind and loving heart and wishes only the best for me. Why would I push him away?"

"Before we go any further, I have to be honest and divulge something; a confession of sorts," he said with much worry. "We will not be going back to Pemberley. Darcy has rented a house in Bath, as I have wanted to live there for many years and he only allowed it once I wed. Does this make a difference?"

Caroline thought on the matter. Mr Darcy had done the ultimate to distance himself from her. She was angry at him for such an underhand plot, but she could not blame him, for her own actions must have driven him to do such a vicious thing. Wickham's expression now portrayed concern, and she needed to reassure him, so placed her hand against his cheek and pulled him to her, where she placed a kiss upon his lips… Her very first kiss.

As their buss deepened, Wickham could not believe her transformation. Her serious, harsh, angry exterior had disintegrated and what was left behind was a very vulnerable woman, a woman who had only wished to be loved. As he pulled away from their kiss, he looked at her once more to see her eyes were closed and her breathing steady; she had softened in appearance and bedazzled him with her beauty. "I am going to undress you, darling," he whispered.

Caroline's eyes slowly opened, but he could see no panic in them. "Please be gentle with me."

"I will, Carrie, I will."

* * *

As they both came down from the giddiness of their pleasures, Wickham pulled his wife into his embrace and kissed the top of her head. How he doted on the woman in his arms and even more so now, for she had reacted in such a passionate way, that all preimaginings he had during his slumber were incomparable. "Oh, I love you so much, my sweet darling wife," he whispered to her. Caroline nestled her head back into the crook of his shoulder and sobbed. She was confused and dazed and could not work out her own reactions. Why was she so wanton? "Was that normal?" she cried.

"Yes, that was normal, you did nothing wrong. On the contrary, my love, you pleased me exceedingly," he soothed. "How are you feeling now that we have coupled?"

"Confused, my feelings are so… so different to when I first walked into the room. I do not know what I am feeling, other than quite content at this moment. The warmth that I feel when you are holding me is nothing I have experienced."

Wickham grinned, for surely he had tamed the shrew. "You will always have my affections, for as long as I live."

There, they lay in relative silence, comfortable in their situation and the quietude allowed her to ponder; his body and how it differed from hers and she wondered if it was the same for all men. "You have an awful lot of hair, George; my brother has a splattering on his chest. Are most men as hairy as you?"

Wickham could not help but laugh. "You have seen a man's body for the first time in your life, and you ask about my hair? Does my manly tackle not intrigue you?"

"Oh, George!" she chastised as she slapped him on the chest. "Will you refrain from using such words and don't think I did not hear your blasphemous language earlier!"

"What? When your barrier gave way and I plunged into your depths? I could not help it. I knew that it pained you, but it felt indescribable."

"It felt horrible, but only for a minute."

"I am sorry, my darling. It is a burden a maiden has to bear to become a wife. It will not be painful again… So my prick?"

Caroline gave a stern look but answered. "Yes, your… body parts are a wonderment too," she smiled as she pulled down the bed sheet to have a look.

"So you are intrigued?" he laughed.

"Can I touch it?"

"Of course, my body is yours to do with as you please…. Well, within limits of its capability." She moved her hand, and as she touched the tip, it twitched. She quickly retracted, stupefied at its liveliness. Wickham chuckled, "That is normal, sweetheart. It is getting ready."

"Ready for what?" she asked as she gingerly reestablished contact. As she stroked his boy, Wickham let out a groan, Caroline looked up at him and saw the satisfaction on his face. "Do you mean for a second time?" she asked, to which Wickham nodded.


	29. Let There Be Light

-0-

It had been near a week since the Wickhams had wed and Darcy was as crotchety as ever. Richard's words hung heavy in his mind since their conversation a sennight previous, and it was this that had now caused him to be ornery at times with his servants and somewhat subdued with his wife. After many ponderings, he now knew that what he had done was wrong; gifting his sister the pianoforte was nothing more than a reward for upsetting the applecart, but how could he go back on his word? Elizabeth could see from her seat next to him that his mind was elsewhere; his mood showed a lack in determination to do anything other than dwell on the private thoughts in his head. "Fitzwilliam, what is troubling you? Is it your eyes?"

"No, yes, well, not at the present moment… I… I cannot say, Elizabeth." He fidgetted in his seat.

"You may appreciate sharing your burdens with me; I may be able to assist you as a substitute confidante in Richard's absence."

"How do you know I discuss matters with Richard?"

"Oh, wild guess, I suppose. He is as close to you as any brother would be to a sibling, plus you are of a similar age so gather you spent quite a bit of time together in your youth."

"You will hate me for what I have done. Richard was angry when he found out, and now I am regretting what I have promised."

"Well, if you do not tell me, then I cannot say if I would hate you or not, even though hate is a powerful word to use. You have now stoked my curiosity, so out with it!"

"I bribed Georgiana to go to school; I promised her a rather substantial gift if she obliged my request."

"Oh! And now you find your generosity in such matters no longer appropriate?"

"I spoil her too excess and reward her for her childish behaviour."

"Childish, yes, because she is a child, but sooner or later she does need to grow up and you smothering her with gifts will not help. What did you promise her."

"A pianoforte," he winced.

"Oh, that is quite a procurement. You could always gift it once your sister has finished her education, the whole situation would have rested its head by then. That way she will have to wait a whole year before she has use of it; I would let her fry in her own grease, it would do her good."

"But I said I would get it for her now."

"Did you say that or was it implied."

"Well, I didn't actually say the words, but I did say I would get it for her if she went to school."

"So, buy it next year… Fitzwilliam, I hope you will not overindulge our children as you do your sister. I want them to grow up knowing the value of money and not think it grows within the confines of their father's pocket."

"Are you saying what I think you are saying?"

"That I do not wish our children to be spoilt?"

"No, that you are…" he asked, wide-eyed and not quite looking at her.

"No!" she chuckled as she twisted his face towards her. "I am not with child, not yet. I was talking about the future. My darling, people do not benefit in the long run when they have not earned their income in some way. You may be a gentleman, but your work on the estate is vast, and you reap the rewards. Us females cannot go through life assuming that everything will be handed to us on a silver platter; I could have just as easily ended up someone's governess. What if Georgiana marries a man who is frugal with his funds and her pin money is far less than what she is used to?"

"You would NOT have ended up a paid servant, and I would not allow her to marry such a man!"

"But what if she wishes to marry him and she cannot even consider another? I know you and Richard will give or withhold permission based on the gentleman's suitability, but affection also needs to play a part. Do you think you have control over who she connects herself with? Should that not be her choice?" Darcy inwardly flinched at her words, as they hit a raw nerve. Had Elizabeth not been the wonderful woman that she was and had he not fallen in love with her, he would have been forced into a marriage of convenience, with no emotional attachment. "You do her no favours in smothering her."

Darcy felt her beside him and without asking, picked her up and placed his wife upon his lap and into his embrace. "I am so sorry, Elizabeth, I have been an arrogant prig since the accident."

"Yes you have, but you have been _my_ arrogant prig," she soothed as she melted into his hold. She felt a tender kiss upon her head, but he said nothing more. _"_ _Do you think I could have a pianoforte too?"_

"Humour is not for now; I am being serious, my sweet. My behaviour on that day was unpardonable; my accusations towards you were ill-founded, formed on words that should not have been trusted. I cannot think of it without abhorrence. My, God! My father would have thrashed me senseless if he were here to witness how I had acted."

Elizabeth nervously laughed as she replied, "You behaved like a bear with a sore head."

"Please do not make light of this, Elizabeth. I have fretted over my inconceivable actions for weeks, and I must have my say."

"What past is past and we must not think upon it ever again."

"That is not enough! I cannot not think about it!" His head flopped back against the back of the settee, and he huffed out his frustrations. "Just knowing that I put Georgiana before you fills me with..." He closed his eyes and Elizabeth witnessed a small tear escape its outer corner and roll across his temple, where it pooled in his ear. His hand quickly came up and wiped away the evidence; he had hoped she had not seen him break, for it would never do for a man to show his weakness. His hopes were dashed, when his wife pulled him towards her and gently kissed each closed eye before taking him into her hold.

"We will be well, Fitzwilliam, I am sure of it." It had only taken a matter of weeks before Elizabeth's own self-imposed incarceration of her heart was forsaken, for she could not withhold the love she had for a man who was so broken as he at that moment. He had acted as he had confessed, as an arrogant prig, but then this had emanated from an event that could have, and still could, change his life forever.

"I am sorry, Elizabeth, you do not need to see me in such a state," he sniffed. He attempted to extract his handkerchief from his waistcoat pocket, but Elizabeth was laying against his chest.

"Have mine," she offered, as she handed him her own.

"I cannot blow my nose into this; it will ruin it."

"I have plenty more. My husband is rather rich, you know."

"He would do well to flourish you with laughter and happiness, not fancy doilies."

"Just blow, Fitzwilliam, for I will not place one more kiss upon you until you do and that will bring me happiness."

"I do not deserve you," he said as he had finished attending to his nares.

"I think you do." And on that, she kissed him most thoroughly.

* * *

It was the middle of the night when Elizabeth awoke with a start as Darcy fell to the floor with a thud.

Looking up from her pillow, she could see his still body in the light of the full moon which had flooded the room from the open drapes. She could tell that he was not moving and unaware of his surroundings; he had succumbed to unconsciousness once more.

As Mrs Reynolds had temporarily taken up residence in the family quarters the previous month, in case of an emergency during the night, she was able to get to the master's chambers within a matter of a few moments after hearing Elizabeth's cries for help. On entering, she immediately spied both the master and mistress on the floor, the former was out like a light, and the mistress had taken to hovering over him in a state of unnerve. She wore nothing more than the sheet wrapped around her, and the end had been draped over the master's nakedness.

"Ma'am, we need to call the doctor. I suggest you put something on to cover yourself and the master, whilst I go and get one of the footmen to ride into Lambton."

Mrs Reynolds left before Elizabeth put on her gown and robe, which had been placed at the bottom of the bed, she then threw the sheet over Darcy just as Roger knocked to request entry into the room. The valet was of substantial proportions so had little trouble picking the master up like a limp ragdoll, and carefully placing him back onto the bed where he managed to dress him into his discarded nightshirt before leaving.

When the doctor came, he examined the patient and confirmed there were no further injuries, and he would awaken in due course. He was, however, rather concerned that Darcy had tried to venture from his bed during the night without anyone knowing, especially as a fire had been lit.

Elizabeth explained that her husband had been quite diligent and was able to get around easily by himself with only the odd upturned piece of furniture. However, she could see the dangers in his latest escapade, for he could have received more than a bump on the head if he were to end up in the fire grate.

"Do not worry Dr Evans, I will be having a firm talk to him when he wakes up," Elizabeth said, now exacerbated by the doctor's excessive warnings.

For the rest of the night, Elizabeth could do no more than to watch over her husband, until she had given way to sleep with her head resting upon his chest.

* * *

Dawn had broke when Darcy opened his eyes. He could determine the light from the windows and sighed with relief. Turning to see his wife, who had now shifted, he saw a vision which nature had refused him for the past near month and a half. She was beautiful in the morning light, but he could also regard that she had succumbed to the albatross that had plagued their lives. The imperfections of dark circles and sallow skin were the battle wounds of her burden.

He moved across the bed and kissed her tenderly; this brought Elizabeth out of her slumber. "Fitzwilliam?" she mumbled in her drowsy state.

"Elizabeth."

"Oh!" She sat up in bed and turned to look at him, realising he had awakened from his most recent inert state. "You are awake?"

"Seems like it, my dear," he confirmed as he pulled her down to him and gazed directly into her dark brown eyes.

"You can see me?!" she gasped.

"I can indeed. I can now look upon the most delightful vision that I have yearned for so long."

"Oh, Fitzwilliam!" she cried out as she collapsed into his arms, but it did not take long for her to pull away and slap his chest.

"Ow!"

"You stupid, stupid man!"

"What have I done now? This is charming! My wife beating on me when I have just announced that I am cured."

"You knocked yourself out last night. You got out of bed and walked into the wall!"

"Did I? I do not remember that. Besides, it does not matter if it was the middle of the night or in broad daylight. It made little difference to me as I could not see," he frowned. There was no logic to her argument.

"But no one was around, and you could have walked into the fire!"

"But I did not, and I have my sight back." He held his arms out to her, but she did not move from her position on the bed with arms folded and brows furrowed. "Are you pouting?"

"Yes!" she pouted.

"Are you not happy you have your husband back?"

"Yes!" she still pouted.

"So can I have my wife back, please? The one who is rather obedient and obliging and provides me with kisses."

"You have to see the doctor!"

"What?! Right this moment?" he huffed. "He will be at least an hour away. Plenty of time to…" He wiggled his brows.

"We had a bed made up for him as he was called a few hours ago when you fell."

"He can wait," he chuckled.

"Fitzwilliam, it is no laughing matter, for you could have been seriously hurt. Heaven forbid you ventured too close to the fire and caught yourself alight!" At this Darcy's face dropped; this was the last thing she needed; the worries of widowhood after a marriage of only months. She took pity on him and sank down into his warm embrace.

* * *

A week had passed, and Pemberley had gradually returned to normal. The master reestablished himself with estate matters and was found for most of the day with the Steward. He had also ventured out to visit the building site where the community house was being erected and agreed with the tenants who had volunteered that the recommendations were far better than the original plans. There would be a smaller room off of a larger one for the children to play if the parents need to discuss matters of importance, or the master requested a meeting. This room could also double up to store the school equipment, for he knew that Elizabeth wished to teach at least one lesson a week in the arts, and she had even volunteered some of her pin money to purchase the paints, paper, and tools.

It was mid-morning on the Tuesday, when the butler announced a surprise visitor; Mr Bingley had come to make a call on his way to Scarborough. "Mrs Darcy, how delightful to see you. I hope you are well?" he grinned.

"Mr Bingley!" she started. "I am well. What brings you here?"

"I was just passing on my way to my aunts and knew that Darcy had been poorly, so made a detour. I hope I can stay the night if that is not a problem?"

"I should think not. Fitzwilliam is out at the moment, seeing to one of the barns on Mr Fletcher's land. The roof had some storm damage last month, and it needs to be approved before it can be fixed.

"Oh, I had hoped he would be here. Will he be long?"

"He will be out most of the day," Elizabeth said, but the glint in Bingley's eyes did not sit well with her. "I will ask Mrs Reynolds to take you to your room, and if you are hungry, I can have the kitchen prepare something for you."

"Thank you; I would be much obliged." He bowed and left with the housekeeper, who had thankfully made an appearance within minutes of the visitor arriving.

Elizabeth called Edward the footman and requested that Darcy be found at once and return to the house. She did not feel confident to be alone with Mr Bingley, even if the servants were present in the house, it was a big house.

A half hour had past and there was no sign of Darcy or the footman when Bingley made a return to the parlour. "Darcy not here yet?"

"No, he should not be long. I have sent word that you have arrived. He will be pleased to see you."

"Oh, I am sure he will," Bingley said as he took the seat next to Elizabeth. He was too close for comfort, so Elizabeth nudged a few inches across in order to distance herself.

"So, you are to Scarborough? What relations do you have there?"

"My aunt and uncle live there. They are still running the family business that my father made his fortune in."

"I am sure they will be pleased to see you."

"And are you pleased to see me?" Bingley asked. Elizabeth thought this an odd question until his hand wandered to hers and pulled it towards his lips.

"Mr Bingley!" She retracted her appendage instantly.

"Mrs Darcy!" he responded with much indecency as he tried to lean into her for a kiss. Elizabeth stood abruptly, but Bingley was not far behind and stood before her. She realised in her stupidity that she had taken a seat in the corner of the room and now she was blocked. Blocked by Mr Bingley, who undoubtedly had designs on her.

"Stand back, Mr Bingley. This will not do!" she demanded.

"Oh, come now, Mrs Darcy… or may I call you Lizzy? Now that you are married, there is no harm in a dalliance, is there?"

"HOW DARE YOU!"

"I dare. I could kick myself for not pursuing you in Hertfordshire; you stood out amongst the other ladies like a diamond within a bowl of pebbles. I am so envious of Darcy."

"What!?" she spat out.

"Your beauty I determined immediately, but I must say your passionate nature at this moment is doing such things to me." He came closer and pushed her against the wall, Elizabeth tried to push him away, but he was too strong, and she felt his enlarged organ press against her stomach. "You must allow me to-"

Before he could finish, Darcy had grabbed his shoulders and pulled him away from his wife. Elizabeth had frozen with fear as she watched the men eye each other; one with a rabid ferocity she had not seen before and the other cowering in a dastardly fashion.


	30. The Power of the Weaker Sex

-0-

* * *

… Before he could finish, Darcy had grabbed his shoulders and pulled him away from his wife. Elizabeth had frozen with fear as she watched the men eye each other; one with a rabid ferocity she had not seen before and the other cowering in a dastardly fashion.

* * *

"I… I can explain, D… Darce," Bingley stuttered as he started to back away from the enraged man in front of him, but Darcy was saying nothing and only snarled through his teeth at the cad he once thought of as a friend. His fixed glare was so piercing that Bingley thought the man was likely to lunge forward and pin him to the wall by his throat. "I… I did not know what I was doing, something just came over me when-"

"Doing!? DOING?! How dare you insult my intelligence! You had my wife in your hold, against her will! MY WIFE, BINGLEY!"

"I know. I did not mean to, it just sort of happened."

"It happened because you cannot keep your blasted hands to yourself when it comes to women! Admit it, Bingley, you are nothing more than a Casanova in cheap clothing!"

"Hang on a minute! I got these in Cork Street; I thought I looked rather dandy in them," Bingley stated as he tugged at his collar with some amount of misplaced pride; he was now more concerned about his apparel than Darcy's furore.

"Blast the damn clothes! You have dishonoured the house of Darcy, and therefore I seek to be satisfied."

"What?!"

"You heard me, man! Do not deny me the right to challenge you!"

"I will not bend to your request, Darcy. This is insane! Please, we can discuss this like calm gentlemen." Bingley had suddenly turned into the most deplorable sycophant Darcy had ever seen, but the master should not have been surprised at the first generation gentleman. Bingley senior had most certainly neglected to bestow upon his only son the code of honour that any man of worth would live by, and no doubt the lecher would go through life wheedling his way out of situations as he was attempting to do at that moment.

"Do you deny me the privilege of restoring my wife's honour?"

"But nothing happened! This has all blown up out of proportion, friend. We can discus-"

"NOTHING HAPPENED! If you are foolish enough to think me still blind, then let me demonstrate my coordination!" Darcy growled before moving one step forward towards the challenged.

"Fitzwilliam!" Elizabeth exclaimed, now that her senses had returned. She rushed forward and stood between the two men, her palms firmly planted on her husband's chest, hoping to stop him from advancing towards Bingley. "It does not need to come to this; I am not injured!"

Darcy looked down at his wife and saw how distraught she had become; all because of a so-called chum who could not keep his hands to himself. "What will it be, Bingley. The weapon of choice is yours to decide."

"No! No! No! You cannot do this! I cannot lose you!" Elizabeth cried as she hit her fists against his chest. "Please!"

Darcy grabbed her wrists to restrain her but softened his grip when he brought her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles before placing them back upon his chest, where he covered her hands with his. "I have to, Elizabeth, he has injured your character and reputation, and I need to seek satisfaction."

"Listen to the woman, Darcy, she makes sense. Neither of us wish to die due to a simple misunderstanding; she is not worth it."

Bingley had made the wrong choice of words, for Elizabeth's own rage manifested expeditiously at his insults, and without further ado, she turned, swung back her arm and struck her hardened fist into Bingley's face. "You bastard!" she screamed as Bingley fell to the floor.

The impact was audible, and those in the room did not miss the crack. "You've broken my nose!" he cried out as he rolled around on the floor in bloody agony. Elizabeth was not finished; she struggled and pulled away from her husband's grip, as he had taken to holding her back, and marched towards the man who was now curled up on the floor while holding his head in pain, and proceeded to kick him in the loin. "That!" _Kick_ "Is for!" _Kick_ "All the unfortunate women!" _Kick_ "Who have succumbed to your charms!" _Kick_. Darcy grabbed her around the waist and pulled her away from the wretch while calling out for Blakeney, who had heard the commotion and was now standing in the doorway, awaiting his instruction.

"Get him out of here!… He has ten minutes to leave this house with or without his belongings… And Blakeney, code three." The henchman knew at once what the master had requested. There had been a code system in place since he had taken up employment and the guard understood that this indicated that he was to follow Bingley to where he was going to reside for the following day, as the master needed to know his whereabouts. It was likely that he would have to deliver a letter of challenge in the morning and act as second. With a nod, he left the room and followed the visitor upstairs.

Darcy had witnessed Bingley spit out two teeth from his bloodied mouth and knew he would have to live with the consequences of his attempted dalliance with a disfigured face for the rest of his life. As from the looks of his nose, it would most certainly set halfway across his face, and the teeth which had previously sat at the front of his mouth were now happily situated on the floor; Bingley's smiles would no longer be so enticing to the gentler sex. This, however, did not quench his thirst for the restoration of his wife's character.

"Fitzwilliam, please do not fight him, he is not worth it," Elizabeth cried as she fell back into the arms of her husband.

He said nothing other than held his wife while she sobbed, but noticed her bloodied hand. "Your hand, Elizabeth." She held it up and noticed the injury. Darcy took out his handkerchief and wiped the crimson wetness away and noticed two cuts along her knuckles. Elizabeth knew she felt a piercing when her fist came into contact with Bingley's face, but on seeing her own wound began to swoon. Before Darcy could coax her to the settee, she fainted into his arms. "Mrs Reynolds! Fetch a vinaigrette!"

"Yes, sir. I have it right here!" The housekeeper came into the room and presented the master with a small silver filigree bottle that she kept upon her person for such an occasion. She had come into the room when Blakeney had been called and witnessed Mr Bingley leave looking like he had been in a street brawl. "What happened, sir?"

Darcy was not inclined to advise the housekeeper of all, but indicated that Mrs Darcy had struck Mr Bingley and that the gentleman would never be welcomed on Pemberley soil again. "I will get some hot water and rags to clean her hand properly, sir. Do you think it will need stitching?"

"No, most of the bleeding has stopped. Hopefully, it will not leave a scar." Mrs Reynolds removed herself in order to return with the items to clean the mistresses wound.

* * *

"What do you think has happened?" Sarah, the scullery maid had asked Betsy in the kitchen.

"I don't know. Whatever it is, the master is certainly angry. Did you hear him shouting?"

"Could ne miss it. A roar it was, a roar! Don't think I have ever heard master like that before."

"Who do you think he was angry with?"

"Hope it weren't the mistress? God, I would ne appreciate being shouted at in that way, rich husband or not."

"I think it was that pretty chap from London. Bingley."

"Oh, the one with the spiteful sister. Heard she got wed not long ago, to our Mr Wickham!"

"No! Really?!"

When Mrs Reynolds walked into the kitchen, several of the kitchen staff were still huddled in a cluster, talking amongst themselves.

"Girls! Back to work!" she exclaimed.

"But, Mrs Reynolds, there was such a commotion upstairs. What has happened?"

"It is none of our business. Julia, can you put some hot water into a large bowl and I need some clean rags."

"Oh! Is someone hurt?" Sarah asked.

"I said it was none of our business, girl, now get back to work!"

With that, most of the group had scattered back to their duties, leaving Julia to complete the housekeeper's request.

* * *

By the time the housekeeper returned to the parlour, there were several servants in the vestibule, running about collecting Mr Bingley's belongings and placing them into the carriage which had already pulled up to the front of the house. Darcy ignored the commotion outside and was only alerted to the fact when he heard Bingley's voice, but Mrs Reynolds had taken it upon herself to close the door when she came into the room.

"Here, sir, let me see to that."

Elizabeth had just awoken and was sitting quietly as the housekeeper tended to her injuries. "Oh, mistress, it is only a graze or two. It will heal in no time."

"Fitzwilliam?" she spoke softly. Darcy moved to sit beside her as she lay on the settee. "Please do not."

"Hush, my sweet," Darcy responded with a gentle kiss on her brow; he did not care that the housekeeper was present. "Let us not talk about it now."

Bingley left, and Blakeney followed close behind, hoping to ascertain his lodgings for the next day or two. He trailed him all the way to Lambton, where he took a room at the Rose and Crown Inn along Church Street. On return, he knocked on the study door, where Darcy had been the previous hour.

"Sir, Bingley is at the Rose and Crown in Lambton."

"Good. He will more than likely be there for a few days, whilst he recovers to some degree. I want you to take a letter to him in the morning."

"Are you requesting a duel, sir?"

"Yes. I cannot let this lie unchallenged. Bingley is a disgrace to mankind, and I will not let him get away with what he has done." Blakeney did not know the full extent and did not wish to inquire, it obviously involved the mistress. It was not his place but understood that if a duel were to proceed, he would be called upon to be Darcy's second.

"Do you wish for me to get the pistols out of the gun room and have them prepared?"

"Yes, although there may be a need for the sword, so see to that as well. My father's cutlass."

"Sir." Blakeney bowed and left.

Darcy remained there for quite some time, silently thinking about what his wife had said before she took to her rooms and he to the study.

 _**** flashback_

"Fitzwilliam, I am fine, I do not wish for you to fight that man. No one is any the wiser, other than the servants hearing an argument and seeing his and my injuries. There is no need for this."

"Hush, Elizabeth, you do not need to fret over this. All will be well."

"It will not! How could I live with myself if he ran you through?" She started to weep.

"I will not die, it will only be to first blood, and Bingley does not even know how to yield a duelling pistol, his swordsmanship leaves a lot to be desired, so doubt I will die any time soon."

"That does not guarantee you will not be shot and killed!"

"He put you into a dreadful situation. I did not see all but saw enough to determine that he would have gone further had I not pulled him away from you. Can you not deny that he was determined to have you?"

Elizabeth paled.

"Did he touch you, Elizabeth, in an inappropriate manner?"

"No, yes, no." She bit her lip with worry. Darcy waited for her to continue. "Not with his hands. I felt him press against me, I felt his… he was aroused." Her words rekindled the event in her mind, and she started to cry once more.

"What!?" Darcy stood abruptly and started to pace the room. "Are you telling me you could feel the state of his manhood!?"

Elizabeth nodded.

"If I knew that before, I would have run him through with the blasted fire poker, be damned with the duel, I want to wring his neck!" he growled. "I apologise, Elizabeth, but I need to think and clear my head. I will be in my study."

 _**** End of flashback_

* * *

By evening, Elizabeth had come to seek out her husband. She knocked on the study door but heard nothing, so entered quietly. There she saw her husband asleep in his chair; his head resting on his forearms upon the desk. As she moved towards him, he was awoken by the wooden floor creaking. Neither said a word when Elizabeth came and sat on his lap. There, both husband and wife took solace from the other as the gloom of the following day lay before them.


	31. Mrs Darcy's Mischief

-0-

"Elizabeth, are you awake?" Darcy asked softly whilst they were lying in bed together that night. It had just turned two o'clock in the morning, and the master was far from tired; his wife was in much the same state of wakefulness as he.

"How can I sleep when I know you will be killed in the morning. Then what will become of me? I will die a lonely dowager before my time, with no children or heir to continue the Darcy line. Georgiana will not take pity on me and throw me out of the house and into the hedgerows, head first, no doubt," she snivelled.

"Your imagination is in overdrive; _besides, Pemberley does not boast of having any hedgerows, we much prefer the pristine polished look of clipped Box hedges. Hedgerows can seem rather disorderly and ruin the look of the place._ _"_

"Fitzwilliam! I am in no mood for your joviality," she chastised as she clung to him for comfort. He felt her need and pulled her tighter into his embrace.

"I apologise, my darling, but the likelihood is that Bingley will refuse. I never assumed him to be such a lily-livered coward that he showed himself to be today, but I should have realised he would skulk away from such a confrontation. Look how he inveigled himself onto you, only to beg off when he got caught."

"I did not encourage him; I hope you realise that,"Elizabeth stated desperately.

"Do not even think that I considered you such a coquette for one moment, for I have not. Bingley seems to want to go through life playing the happy go lucky dandy with his licentious ways, not taking the consequences into account and their seriousness. It makes me wonder how many times he has done this before; if he has ever succeeded in taking a woman by persuasion and coercing her into his bed. It does not bear thinking about... He may have even sired at least one child, as there had been some talk on the matter at Whites around the same time that he wished to be away from the area two years past. I took no notice of it and ignored it for what I thought it was worth, now I wonder at its legitimacy." Darcy paused for a moment, Elizabeth noticed in the cool moonlight that he was deep in thought before a look of pain seized him. "Elizabeth, has he ever tried anything like this before?"

"Not to that extent, but…"

"But what? You need to tell me everything."

"It is not so much what he did, but what he implied and what I witnessed. At the time I simply ignored it, or made light of it all as I had no proof to think he had intended anything but polite conversation."

"And?"

"When I first made his acquaintance at the Meryton Assembly, he stated that all the occupants of Hertfordshire were pretty, but he was looking directly at me with such intensity. I did not think anything of it at the time as it could have been taken as an innocent remark and about those in the room; some of the ladies that evening had made an exemplary effort and looked quite stunning with their fancy hair baubles, and silk embroidered gowns. When he said what he did, I simply made a joke at how my father would have appreciated his remark, had he been there. Later we, Charlotte Lucas and I, observed his interactions with the other ball-goers. She made some remark at how he had looked at me; I pushed that notion aside, but my friend was insistent that his attentions were not just friendly, and he kept glancing over at me from across the room for the rest of the night. Luckily, I had quite a dowdy dress on that evening and my neck-line unfashionably high, or else he would no doubt be looking straight at my assets as he had done with Mrs Long's niece. He had been eagerly devouring her person as Miss Cecily had worn such a low cut gown that he could not keep from staring at her bosoms; it was positively scandalous. Of course, the lady encouraged him, wishing that the enticements were to his liking and hoping to ensnare the rich tenant into matrimony."

"Anything else? In London, maybe?"

"No, not really. Just the odd looks when we were all at Darcy House. He was overly pleased with our reacquaintance, but on a few occasions, when I had unknowingly glanced over at him, he seemed quite annoyed. I put it down to the fact he had been travelling that day, but then a few days later, he seemed in the same mood. It was as though he was attempting to put a happy face on, but deep down was not happy at all."

"Jealousy can do that to you."

"He never had a chance with me, Fitzwilliam. Even in Hertfordshire, I quickly assumed him to be a man I would never engage myself with."

"I am sure he would not have succeeded in anything improper, especially with a swing such as yours. Where on earth did you learn to fight?"

"The Farley boys. They lived at Netherfield about six years ago. The two eldest sons noticed that I was being pestered by the Lucas brothers and they taught me to fight. They hung a sack of oats in the barn, and I was told to punch at it until I felt confident. Then they progressed to me attempting to fight them."

"They hit you?!"

"No, they would not think of harming a hair on my head. They just allowed me to hit them until I nearly knocked James out… He was the older and larger of the two brothers. At that point, they said I could fight my way out of a skirmish amongst a group of drunken louts. I have never had to use my skills until now."

"Good for them, although I may need to be careful around you," he smiled.

"You know I would never attempt anything like that; it is purely for defence purposes."

"And how were you defending yourself with Bingley?"

"I was defending my honour."

Darcy pulled her into his embrace, and the comfort that each received from the other allowed them to fall into a deep sleep.

* * *

Dawn had broken, and the bird chorus drifted in from the woods outside when Darcy woke. He felt distinctly cold and determined without opening his eyes that Elizabeth had left the bed early. Trying to sit up, he found himself hindered and was unable to move. He opened his bleary eyes and looked at his hands; both wrists had been bound with a silk cravat and tied to the bedpost. Darcy managed to lift his head and look down and observed his ankles were tied together and tethered to one of the posts at the foot of the bed. "What in the blazes?!" he cried out. Elizabeth was standing close by, looking rather smug with herself. "Elizabeth, what in the damnation are you doing? Untie me at once!"

During the early hours of the morning, Darcy's wife had risen without disturbing her husband and proceeded to restrain him. Each arm was splayed out and bound to the nearest bedpost and his legs tied together in the hopes that this would prevent Darcy from engaging in the affair of honour he was so determined to see through.

"No! I am not letting you leave this room!" she said stubbornly from a distance of several feet.

"It will not hinder the arrangements, Elizabeth," Darcy sighed. "The letter has already been written, and I handed it to Blakeney last night. I instructed him to deliver the missive to Bingley this morning. I am sure he is already in Lambton as we speak."

"If that be the case, you will just have to forfeit by non-attendance."

Darcy was beginning to get exasperated at his wife's insolent behaviour and snapped. "Elizabeth! Do not disobey me! Untie me at once!"

"No!" She moved from the foot of the bed and sat herself down on top of her husband's stomach, hoping that the additional weight would assist in his confinement. "I will keep you here as my prisoner until you see sense."

"All I will need to do is call out for Roger; he will untie me."

"No, he will not. I have already warned him not to go against me."

"And he will answer to you, but not me?" he guffawed.

"Yes."

" **ROGER!"** Darcy called, but there was no immediate answer.

"He will not come."

"He bloody better had!" Darcy stated as he tried to buck his wife off of him. "I will only ask once more, untie me!"

"No, and now you cannot request it further of me," she smirked.

" **ROGER!** Now you are just being ridiculous, and I need to use the chamberpot."

"I doubt that. You are just saying that to get me to untie you."

He huffed.

"At least allow me to move my feet; there is no harm in that. My legs have gone dead."

"No! Do you care for something to eat?"

"How am I to eat? I will choke laying down… And my arms ache."

"Stop complaining."

" **ROGER!"** Darcy yelled at the top of his lungs, and Elizabeth pulled her feet to a cross-legged position and grabbed the counterpane, which she wrapped around herself, as she heard footsteps outside.

The door opened to the dressing room, and the valet's head appeared from behind. "Sir?"

"Untie me!"

"I am sorry, sir. I have my orders," he stated in all seriousness.

"This is getting beyond a joke! Who pays your wages around here?! If you do not untie me now, you will be fired immediately without a reference! Do I make myself clear?!" With that threat looming, Roger quickly unfastened the cravats. Elizabeth had yet to move from atop of her husband. "Elizabeth, get off of me!"

"NO!" Darcy rolled onto his side and so rolling his wife off of him and onto her back. "That is not fair!"

"Neither is imprisoning me. We will have words later!" he commanded, but Darcy's mien softened when she started to sob. He did not wish to upset his wife, but she had acted foolishly and with little gain in her favour.

After half an hour, Darcy returned to the bedchambers, washed and dressed. Elizabeth had burrowed under the covers so that she would shield herself from the horrors of the world and live out her morning in a fantastical world, existing only in her mind. "Are you getting up?" Darcy asked as he came and sat down on the bed.

"No!" came a muffled, sombre response.

"Fine, I will leave you here; I need to speak to Blakeney who has just returned."

Elizabeth came out from under the covers, her face blotchy and red. "Please, Fitzwilliam."

He bent forward and kissed her forehead, but said nothing before leaving her to her solitude.

* * *

"Sir, when I arrived he were nowhere to be seen."

"What do you mean? What did the innkeeper say?"

"That Mr Bingley had taken flight during the early hours and probably out of the area before the sun had risen. The man told ol' Mr Hodges that he shouldna tell a living soul where he were going after the coachman had hollered out their destination by mistake."

"And I take it you persuaded the innkeeper to tell you."

"Sure did, master. Took five bob, it did." Darcy delved into his pocket and retrieved his pocketbook; flicking a crown at the man, he then decided to reward him for his quick thinking and lobbed him another. "Thank ye, sir," Blakeney said eyeing the mad king's head. "The coachman let slip that they were going to York, then onto Scarborough, he specifically said North Street was their first stop as he were to take lodgings there for a few days."

"Ah! I remember him saying he had stayed at a boarding house there once before; Mrs Taverstock's Rooms, I think."

"Do you wish for me to pursue him? I can get there by tomorrow afternoon if I take your horse."

"No, I think we can leave it be. I doubt our paths will cross in the near future, and when they do, he will probably run. Right now, I have other matters to attend to," he said thinking about his wife's behaviour. "You may return to your duties, and thank you, Blakeney." The man nodded and left.

* * *

Darcy entered their bedchambers and locked the doors without making a sound. The last four and twenty hours had been an emotional ride, and the confrontation between the men had had an odd reaction on Darcy. He had felt the potency of his mannish spirit in his loins and was now quite enamoured after the rigours of his masculine energies had diminished, leaving behind a need for his wife. However, she had acted most appallingly that morning and Darcy had to take both matters in hand if he could, but what to do?

He looked over at the bed and saw a womanly shaped mound under the counterpane. "Elizabeth?" he beckoned softly as he sat on the bed. He could hear snuffles and imagined his wife still upset. "Come out from under there, please, my darling." His voice, soft and smooth, had coaxed Elizabeth from her hiding place. "Bingley absconded in the night. There will be no engagement, and I believe the matter is now closed." Elizabeth fell back against the pillows, puffing out her relief; he noticed she had yet to dress for the day and was still in her night attire. "But, I was not pleased with you earlier. Your half-baked schemes would never have worked, even if Bingley had not run off."

"I had to try," she pouted. She watched Darcy finger his cravats, which were still on the bed. "I took them from your Tallboy. I hope they are not damaged."

"No, but seeing them reminds me that you need to be taught a lesson over this morning's absurdities, and the fact that I am owed a favour, I believe…" he stopped as he looked up at Elizabeth with a smirk only to be met with his wife's confusion. "As you have tied me up, I believe it is only fair that I return the compliment, my darling."

"Compliment? Fitzwilliam, What are you doing?!" she exclaimed as he commenced binding her wrists together with the scarves. "You cannot do this! It is…. It is the middle of the day, and I have… I have to see Mrs Reynolds!"

"No you do not," he stated firmly as he pulled his wife across his lap.

"Fitzwilliam! Stop it," she giggled, for she could not help her lifted spirits as she tried to escape, but her husband was too strong. Facing forwards, she could not observe the delight that shone from her husband's face on hearing her acceptance, even though she protested, her behaviour gave a different story.

"No! You have earned yourself a delicious spanking, Mrs Darcy!" he jovially announced.

"But the servants!"

"What about them? They will not enter our room, as I discretely turned the keys when I came in here."

"You brute!" she laughed. "You have had this planned all along."

"I have not. I had a much more delicious engagement planned consisting of tying you to the bed with my cravats so that you resembled a naked starfish and then ravish you, but this will do nicely."

Elizabeth felt the back of her hem being raised as Darcy hitched up her robe and run his fingers along the insides of her calves. She stopped struggling and her legs, which had previously been violently thrashing about, went limp. He reached her inner thighs then furthered his caresses as he delved into her wetness, where he rubbed her innards. "Oh!" she blissfully sighed.

"I believe you are quite looking forward to this, madam." He managed to bend forward and place a kiss upon each cheek before he stroked the delicate skin upon her rump. "So peachy soft."

"Fitzwilliam, please," she pleaded.

"Please what?"

"Get it over and done with, so that you can have your way with me."

"All in good time, Mrs Darcy. I wish to savour this moment as it is unlikely to be repeated," he stated as he continued to stroke her posterior so gently that it almost tickled. Then came the sting.

 _SLAP!_

Elizabeth cried out a guttural moan. She did not know if it was from the pain, the shock, or sheer wanton arousal. Darcy continued the slow circulation of his fingers upon her posterior whilst occasionally dipping into her crease hoping to promote her pleasures.

As he pulled out, Elizabeth distinctly heard a sucking noise. "What are you doing?" Her husband said nothing. "Fitzwilliam?! Did you just suck your fingers?" He chuckled. _"_ _Would you care for a spoon?"_

"I think I do not need one; I may just have to drink from the bowl."

 _SLAP!_

"Ah!"

"Are you remorseful for what you did this morning?"

"No."

 _SLAP!_

"Dear, Lord! I think I am going to…"

 _SLAP!_

"What was that? A no?"

"Yes, it was a no."

 _SLAP!_

"Oh! Good grief! Fitzwilliam! I am going to scream the house down if you do not stop!"

"Am I hurting you?" Darcy was now concerned that he had gone too far. This was supposed to be a titillation, and he was, by his measure, only tapping her rump.

"No! I am likely to… to… scream with pleasure, and all I want now is for you to be deep inside of me so that I can feel your thingumbobs against me!"

At this, Darcy turned her around so that he could bestow such passion upon her. "Let me assist you, madam, with your desires. Let me worship you."

And so he did.


	32. Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow

-0-

The weeks leading up to the festivities in December were uneventful, yet busy. Nothing had been heard from Mr Bingley, other than that he had returned to town after spending a few days in the North East; no doubt to seek out a competent surgeon who could put his face to right, and a dentist to fix his teeth. Darcy received a missive from the Viscount not long after the man had been spotted walking the length of Old Bond Street.

...

… _I was astonished to see Bingley last week. I must say that his face seemed as though he had been run over by a carriage and six, and all six had stamped on his head twice over. Such a mess on what was quite an exceptional feature; poor fellow._

 _He had some story of how several carousers, drunk one evening, had attacked him with a blow to the gut as he tried to pass them on the street. His pocketbook had been the primary enticement, but they were not satisfied to end their assault there and furthered his injury by kicking him in the head for no apparent reason._

 _He did not wish to seek indemnity either through punishment or compensation and refused the assistance of the runners to find the blackguards. I found this all rather odd, but he was insistent that no one intervened, as the men were long gone._

 _Somehow, I find this story hard to believe, as surely any gentleman who had fallen foul to such a crime would wish for assistance to bring the perpetrators to justice, and so have some degree of recompense. The tale seemed all very far-fetched, and I have determined it to be nothing but cock and bull nonsense. I would not be surprised if it were not an attempt to cover up some sort of vengeance by an angry husband or brother to one of his lady friends, for I cannot see why he would go to such lengths not to have these drunken louts brought before a judge and jury._

 _He mentioned his want to employ a surgeon of dentistry so that he could have some Waterloo teeth fixed, and can only assume he was on his way to see Mr Spence with the hopes of purchasing those of a poor dead soldier to replace his own. To think that he will be walking around with a dead man_ _'_ _s ivories in his mouth is bizarre, but I suppose it is better than having to observe his tonsils when he smiled…_

 _..._

Darcy wished to put his cousin straight. He knew that Richard had to be made aware, given that Bingley could be a simpleton and try wheedling his way into Georgiana's affections when she came out the following year, so was determined to charge Richard with the truth when they next met.

Preparations for the visitors over the festive season had commenced as early as the middle of November. The guest rooms were assigned to each of the party, but Elizabeth was astonished at the state of the conjoining bedchambers in that particular wing, which were to be a temporary home to Lord and Lady Matlock.

"Fitzwilliam, when was the last time these rooms were used?" Elizabeth had asked after they had taken to touring the guest wing.

"Not since a few years before father passed away. No one has stayed in here since his death, as I have not been inclined to entertain large parties with married couples."

"So, you do not mind if I have the rooms redecorated and maybe new soft furnishings?" Darcy chuckled. He knew what Elizabeth must have thought of the colours, as he had disliked them from the moment the paint had dried and had voiced his boyish disgust to his parents at the time, only to receive a clip around his ear for his honesty.

"I do not mind, but ask Mrs Reynolds to assist you in making a list of what you wish to alter. I know of a seamstress in the village who can handle the drapes and such; it would be more beneficial to the local commerce that we use their services than send off for the goods from Town."

"What about the walls? It all looks rather…"

"Gaudy? You can say that it is, Elizabeth, I will not mind," he laughed. "Mother went through an odd phase of wanting everything gilded. It looks like a French brothel with the red drapes in here." Darcy could have kicked himself for his reference to a house of sin, for Elizabeth took to teasing him for a further quarter of an hour on the subject and how he knew what a place of such lubricious enticements would look like. "I have not been in a French brothel, so do not keep asking me for the finer details. I do not know!… Elizabeth, do not look at me like that; it was simply a figure of speech."

"Oh, Fitzwilliam, can you not tell that I am trying to rile you?" she giggled.

"Yes… Well, it is not a subject I wish to be teased on," he stated uncomfortably as he tugged at his cravat.

"Oh, husband, are you angry with me?" she asked as she came up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Yes," he said with a suppressed smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. "No. You know I cannot be so outraged." He bent down and kissed her gently as to prove his contentment with their discourse. "I need to go out for a short while; will you be alright to continue on your own?"

"I am sure I will be fine. Will I see you for nuncheon?"

"I do not know. I should be back by two, and it would be lovely if you could delay the meal by an hour or so. I should have returned by then, and we can eat in our private sitting room, then move into the next room for dessert," Darcy stated as he kissed her once more. She cordially agreed to this, and after Darcy's departure continued to scrutinise the room again before seeking out the housekeeper.

* * *

"I understand there is a seamstress in the village, do you know her whereabouts, Mrs Reynolds?"

"Oh, Doris? Sorry, ma'am, I mean Mrs Peacock; she is my sister," Mrs Reynolds smiled widely. "Do you wish to have her make the soft furnishings?"

"I did not know you had family in the area? How wonderful to live so close."

"It is ma'am. I see my sister most Sunday's at church and take tea with her on my days off."

"Excellent. Then we shall use her skills to brighten up this room, or rather dull it down," the mistress chuckled as she gazed upon the glow of the architrave and garishness of the wall panels. "Do you know if she will be able to complete the task before the guests arrive at Christmas?"

"I am sure she will cope. I can send a footman down to fetch her this instant if you like?"

"That will not be necessary for today. We can invite Mrs Peacock to measure up once I introduce myself; I would quite enjoy walking around the village today for I have not had nearly enough time to explore and wish to see what shops are on offer and introduce myself. I will take Hannah with me, and maybe Edward can drive the curricle."

"Very well, ma'am. My sister's shop is on the main street, next to the postmaster."

* * *

"Please wait here, Edward. We will not be too long," Elizabeth instructed the footman as she and her maid left the carriage on the outskirts of the village.

"Are you sure you do not wish for me to accompany you, mistress?" he asked. He was not sure if it would be wise to leave Mrs Darcy on her own, but equally he did not wish to force his mistresses hand.

"What could possibly happen? I will be well enough with Hannah in tow. I would rather you stay and keep an eye on the horses."

As they walked along the main street towards Mrs Peacock's, Elizabeth noticed a familiar steed tied to a railing outside the local smoking rooms. "Hannah, is that Neptune?"

"I believe so, ma'am," but then the maid silently chastised herself when she observed where it was. "Oh! I am not sure now; I believe Mr Darcy's horse has a tiny patch of white on its forelock."

Luckily, Elizabeth had not noticed her husband's horse in extreme detail but observed that the beast in front of them was completely black and without mottling. "Oh, I thought it was. What an odd place to have a smoking room? Not as if there are that many gentlemen around who wish to socialise with their pipes and snuff, and cannot see the farmer tenants partaking," she pondered when she noticed the sign which said ' _Quality services and merchandise for the Gallant Gentleman._ _'_

"I believe some squires come from Kympton and Matlock; they do not boast of such an establishment there," the maid responded hastily as she tried to advance their path into the village. Elizabeth pushed her curiosity to one side and continued onto Mrs Peacock's.

* * *

"What do you mean you will tell me if I give you a guinea? You are charging me for a name and address?"

"Yes, sir," replied Miss Martin. "Another guinea on top and I will throw in a special for you, master," she stated as she came towards him with a seductive look in her eyes.

"How dare you! I am now married and do not require your services anymore. You know that!"

"Oh, pish, Mr Darcy. I get married gentlemen in here all the time, and they do not come for the tobacco. Why should you be so different? Come now, sir, for old times sake. I'll get the chair out that you seem so keen on this fine morning."

"Have your guinea and keep your hems firmly placed on the floor. I need the name and address of the carpenter you used!"

"Very well," Miss Martin huffed before going off to write down the information.

Darcy had been thinking about what to buy Richard for his wedding gift, and during the previous evening had a moment of inspiration. His cousin had mentioned, on more than one occasion, the chair that the local whore had in her boudoir. Darcy, in his wisdom, thought it would be rather a blast to have one made. Of course, it would not be the official gift, for he had left that to his wife to decide.

Miss Martin returned from the back room and handed Darcy the card. "Thank you," he stated firmly before attempting to leave, but the whore had moved in front of him and blocked the way. She dipped her fingers into the top of her low cut bodice and pulled out a breast and commenced circling her hardened nipple with her fingers. "Are you sure I cannot tempt you, sir, I seem to remember you liked to suck-"

"No! I said I do not require your services, so please refrain from asking! Now get out of the way!" He pushed the woman aside, walked out the establishment, mounted Neptune, and returned to Pemberley via a secret pathway, which allowed him to go unnoticed.

* * *

 **Boxing Day 1811**

Unlike previous years, Pemberley seemed to be full of joyous laughs and smiles over the Christmas period. Up until the winter celebrations of 1811, the house had been quiet with just the two Darcy siblings in situ. However, this year would be different, and a week before the festivities began, Richard accompanied his mother and father to the great house to celebrate. They had arrived three days previous, and to Richard's delight, Sir Thomas and Miss Davenport had journeyed from Rotherham that morning, hoping to stay for a couple of days.

"Look! It is now snowing quite heavily outside and has settled at least two inches already," Richard proclaimed as he came in from his visit to the stables covered in snowflakes. The Davenports were in the parlour with Richard's parents and Georgiana.

"Heaven forbid, boy! You will get water everywhere. Go and change before Darcy sees you!" the Earl stated urgently. "Go sort yourself out."

"Oh! I did not think of the carpets," Richard grimaced as he looked down at the small puddle forming on the surrounding marble floor. Luckily, he had not ventured into the room far enough to be standing on the Persian rug.

"I will have to ask brother if I am allowed to go out," Georgiana squealed, "I hope he will permit it as I am not allowed to have any fun at school, and this will set me up for weeks!"

"Where is Darcy, and Elizabeth for that matter?" Richard asked, noticing they were not with their guests.

"He went to the study a few minutes ago to seek out some plans. He wanted to show Uncle Henry and Sir Thomas where the new school building will be."

"And Elizabeth?"

"She just followed him to assist in his search," Georgiana stated innocently before skipping off.

"Can I also go out too, papa?" asked Rebecca.

"Yes, so long as you do not run about enthusiastically. It would never do for a young lady to act so boisterously." Richard grinned. His lover would not be immune to the force of his attack, and she would have to run to escape his gelid bombardment. Rebecca removed herself with a view of readying herself.

"I will wait for you all on the steps," Richard announced as he took his handkerchief out to soak up most of the puddle he had created and wrung it out in the potted palm which sat in the vestibule.

Georgiana was too engrossed in what was occurring outside to remember her manners, and so forgot to knock before bursting into the room. "Brother, it is snow- Oh!" she exclaimed with a degree of surprise for she had disturbed a private moment between her brother and his wife, who were in a passionate embrace. At Georgiana's sudden entrance, Elizabeth broke from the buss and stepped back; her face flush and her breathing quick.

"Georgiana, please knock!" Darcy stated. Over the previous weeks, the couple had had the house to themselves; Georgiana had been at school, and Richard's trip to London had extended due to the Davenports arrival in Town. It was in recent days, where the house was filled to the brim that the couple had taken to stealing the odd private moment when they could.

"I am sorry, brother. Richard says it is snowing. I thought it would be quite fun to go outside. Come see," she stated as she headed towards the window and pulled back the lace drapes. Both Darcy and Elizabeth followed, however, Darcy stood behind his wife until his reaction had calmed. "So, can I go?" Georgiana urged.

"Yes, but wrap up warm and put your old boots on; I do not want you ruining your new pair. You have only had them a week, and I will not replace them needlessly."

"I would quite like to go out too, Fitzwilliam. I have rarely seen snowfall so fiercely; it is a wondrous vision to behold."

"Please wrap up warm, darling. I would not care for you to catch a chill," he purred into her ear from behind. His hands were placed on her shoulders, and Elizabeth wanted nothing more than to lull herself back against him. She could feel his grip on her, his hands rubbing where they lay, and the odd stroke of his thumb against the nape of her neck had sent tingles down her spine.

"I will wear my wool coat as well as my cape, and I still have my old walking boots from Hertfordshire. I am sure I will be as snug as a bug in a rug."

"It is colder in the north, and although it is quite early for it to fall, we do tend to have it more often than not in the deep winter months," he said as he kissed the top of her head. "Please be careful, Elizabeth, I do not wish to see you break your head because you have slipped on the ice."

"I will do my best not to fall and ensure no one acts silly, although Richard will be difficult to manage."

It had taken the ladies a full twenty minutes to don their garments and make their way outside, and by this time the snow had stopped falling, leaving behind a thick white layer across the lands. Another half an hour had gone by when those who stayed indoors were distracted by feminine squeals and cries from outside.

"Richard, that is not fair!" Rebecca exclaimed.

"Oh, I think it is," the man laughed.

"It is not! How am I to explain my hair being wet?"

" _You stood under a tree, and a big clump of precariously balanced snow decided to fall onto your head at that moment," he joked._

"That is not what happened, and you know it. Father will be angry."

"At least it is not yellow."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Richard stated innocently. Even Elizabeth could not comprehend his meaning, and Georgiana was too consumed with gathering the snow from the top of the hedges to take note.

"Come here, Beckie, I will help you brush it off before it melts," Richard stated as he walked towards his lover. "I am sorry, I was aiming for your lovely rounded rump, but you turned and bent down at the wrong moment."

"Dickie! Do not say such things!" she quietly chastised, but could not stop the mirth from her voice. "You are a monster to me sometimes."

"I certainly will be once we are married, My Lady, " he whispered into her ear. If the cold had not made Rebecca's cheeks rosy, Richard's intentions certainly did. "It will be hard not to ravish you as soon as we arrive at Darley House; I cannot wait to get you naked and into my bed; I want you trembling under my gaze and whimpering at my touch."

"Please stop! Elizabeth will hear you, and I will swoon."

"Oh, she has Darcy to attend to her; I doubt she is interested in us," he laughed as he continued to brush away at the white flakes. "There, you look perfectly beautiful."

"And you look as handsome as ever. Have I told you lately how much I love you, Dickie?"

"Maybe once or twice since your arrival this morning, but I never tire of hearing it." Elizabeth had heard the affectionate endearments between them and felt her heart sink, for she had longed to hear those words herself.

As the Viscount was attentive towards his betrothed, Georgiana threw a snowball, which hit him straight in the face. "Ha! I attain my revenge," she giggled, before running back into the house.

Darcy sighed as he watched the joyous party from the window. He could see that Richard had taken to throwing snow at the women. A large white patch still adhered to his wife's back and his sister was covered from head to toe. Rebecca had not fared much better, but at least his cousin had the decency to help dust her down.

"You cannot get away with that, young missy," Richard hollered, "I will have my revenge!" The two remaining ladies returned to the house with Richard following behind some minutes later but stopped when he spied his cousin glowering at him from the parlour doorway. "Oh, cousin, do not look so angry with me. It is just a bit of fun."

"For a future Earl, Richard, you do act a fool sometimes."

"Best to get it over and done with now, before I have to act the proper and straight-laced peer, but I have plenty of time before that happens. Is that not right, father? You are in fine health and have decades left in you yet," Richard called out from his spot on the towels that had been placed on the vestibule floor.

"Too true, son! I am sure I will be around for quite some time to come. Us oldies do not take the risk of the cold and would rather stay in the warm drinking a fine wine. Here's to ageing gracefully, Sir Thomas," he saluted.

"Here Here!" the gentleman agreed.


	33. Frustrations, Celebrations & Revelations

**-0-**

New year's eve had arrived, and the Davenports had returned to Rotherham two days previously. It was the hour before dinner, and Richard had taken to his rooms to dress when his father came storming in. "Son! Do you have an English riding coat to hand?"

"What?! Father, do not tell me you are going to see the local totty whilst you are here? Surely you can abstain from fornicating for a few days."

"No! Blast! I am not going anywhere. If you must know, your mother has just let it be known that she would rather like to… Well, you know," the Earl said as he repeatedly thrust his index finger in and out of his partially clenched fist.

Richard covered his face in embarrassment, how could his father gesture his intentions so vulgarly. "Oh, Lord! I did not need to know that. But why is there a necessity to cover yourself? I thought mother had past childbearing age after months of being unwell."

"She has, but she insists on it. I am sure she thinks I have the Gallic disease."

"What?!" Richard exclaimed with surprise. "Have you any symptoms? Rashes or sores? Balding? Swelling around your tallywags?"

"No, of course not!" the Earl stated abruptly. "But she does not wish for me to take any chances. You never know with these town whores; even with something on the end of it, there is still a chance you could catch something… It is a case of 'caveat emptor,' as the town trollops do not come with a guaranteed clean bill of health."

"And your mistress does?"

"Yes, she was a maiden when I took her and has been faithful these past five years."

"Father!"

"What?! Do not tell me you have not thought about it… So have you?"

"Have I what? Thought of taking an innocent maiden? Well, only where Beckie is concerned, and I will have to wait for that as I am not inclined to anticipate my vows; I have too much respect for the lady and I love-"

"No!" the Earl interrupted. "Have you got any coats as I need it now. I do not wish to wait for the thing to soak and have your mother change her mind before I can cover myself. I need it now so I can let it steep before dinner, then I can claim her as soon as we retire. I did not bring mine as I was not expecting your mother to be so agreeable. She has not let me touch her in months but seems the festivities has made her somewhat pliant to my advances. "

"Good grief! You still attempt after months of rejection?" Richard asked whilst shaking the vision from his head. Why was he continuing this conversation, for it was not a comfortable one?

"Of course. For it makes your mother feel wanted, even if she does not submit. Where would I be if I did not nag her once in a while."

" _At your virtuous mistresses in Tansley, no doubt,"_ he snorted.

"Rosemary is a sweet creature and serves me well, but there is nothing like the warmth of the one you love. I know I have been rather… rampant in my behaviour, but I do love your mother. It is just that I cannot survive on the odd chaste kiss on retiring, and she has virtually refused my advances since your birth. You know that she nearly died when you were born and only accepts me every once in a while when I am donned. I need my comforts like every other man, so she accepted my other ladies… Well, so long as I am discrete, which I have not been of late," he grimaced.

"I have yet to appreciate the warmth of a loved one myself, so will take your word for it, and yes, you have not been discrete. Georgiana picked up on your behaviour when she stayed."

"Your mother let me know my actions had not gone unnoticed. My indiscretions hurt her exceedingly, but she has forgiven me."

Richard moved over to the set of drawers. "Here, have this; it is new. I brought it with me the last time I was here but did not get to use it due to Darcy's accident."

"So, you were to seek out the delights of some local totty yourself," the Earl laughed with a slap on his son's back.

"Well, I was not engaged then. I have no need for it now, so you may as well keep it... Oh, father, there is one last thing." The earl stopped his exit and turned to his son. "Bingley. Darcy divulged some terrible incident to me earlier. I will not go into details now, but the man is not welcome as a friend, or indeed a common and indifferent acquaintance of his. He has disowned the chap most thoroughly, and we would all do well to do to follow suit."

"But he has been friends with him for the past five years. What has occurred? I must know."

Richard sighed, he knew his father would want more than what he had said. "The lech made advances towards Elizabeth when he last visited. Darcy caught him pinning his wife up against the wall and challenged him, but before he could take matters further, Elizabeth punched the bastard in the face. Bingley was then thrown out, and he fled in the night before Darcy's man could deliver a note of intent the following morning."

"My God! So our little cherry blossom did that to the man's face?" Richard proudly grinned.

"Darcy is also keen on ensuring the ladies are always accompanied by a man whilst in Town. Even if one of us is not available, we are to use the services of Blakeney, who will stand in as a guard. He is especially concerned with Georgiana."

"I can understand his thought pattern, although your mother will not accept his advances; she barely accepts mine."

"Neither did Elizabeth; it made no difference as to her own wishes as he would have forced himself on her had it not been for Darcy's arrival."

"The brute! I could run him through myself."

"That is what I thought when Darcy told me. Father, you must not let it be known that I have told you. Darcy has given me leave to tell you, but Elizabeth would be mortified if she discovered the men in the family knew. We must quietly, yet earnestly, ensure the safety of all. Beckie, Georgie, Elizabeth, and mother."

"Yes, you are right on that score. We cannot let the ladies worry needlessly. It is an advantage that we all live so far from Town, so we only have to be vigilant when we head south for the season. Will you tell Sir Thomas?"

"I do not think there is a need. We will be married by the end of January, and I will be Beckie's protector before we enjoy the next season, so think it will not be necessary. Beckie's mother rarely goes out without Sir Thomas and never travels due to her health. I only thank the Lord that my love has already completed her trousseau and the wedding is to be held in Rotherham. We also need to alert the staff that Bingley is never to be permitted entry onto our lands." To this, the Earl agreed.

* * *

After the family had finished dinner, everyone ventured out to the front of the house, to where Richard had arranged the entertainment.

"Is it safe, Richard? I hope the man you hired has not raided the local militia's arms stores and used actual gunpowder," Darcy questioned with concern.

" _What do you think fireworks are made from? Fairy magic, or conjured up by the elves?"_ he laughed. "I can assure you, cousin, that the man knows his business and certifies their safety… Well, they are safe so long as you do not get in the way of a flying missile, so I suggest you all stand well back and keep this side of the lake."

Darcy pulled his wife to the back of the group and held her from behind. "Fitzwilliam, not here," she whispered for Darcy had taken to nibbling on his wife's neck. "We have already been discovered by your sister; I would not wish for her to see us in another embrace."

"Mm? What is that my dear? I cannot hear you," he murmured whilst he continued.

"Think of your sister… Oh!…." she managed to say between his steady stream of affectionate caresses, which had lingered just below her ear.

"I am sure Georgie will not mind. She is far too busy watching the display to be concerned with us," he said as he nipped her earlobe.

As their affections continued, a loud explosion was heard overhead, then another, bringing them out of their bliss. The array of light in the sky had doubled in its magnificence due to its reflection upon the lake, and the white of the snow had lit up, giving a pronounced glow of incandescence. Georgiana had never seen such a vision before and was jumping with glee.

Both Elizabeth and Darcy watched as the display continued and his thoughts turned to how beautiful his life was now. _I have my wife whom I love dearly, my wonderful family, and my health. What more could I wish for?_ he thought. His hand, which had been wrapped around his wife's waist, trailed down to cover her belly. He gently held it there and thanked the Lord for the precious gift that was now growing within Elizabeth's womb. Her menses had been due earlier in the week, but nothing had transpired. From the few months they had been married, Darcy had not observed any lateness in their appearance and was timed to almost the hour. Although she had not said a word, he could only believe that she was now with child, his child.

* * *

It was late, and Richard's parents had retired. Richard and Darcy took to having a nightcap in the study, which left Elizabeth and Georgiana in the music room, mulling over a complicated piece of music that Georgiana was attempting to perfect before retiring.

"I went to see Miss Martin last month," Darcy stated out of the blue.

"What? You did not succumb to her charms, did you? You shock me!"

"No, what do you take me for? I went for one purpose only, and that was the name and address of the carpenter who made her chair."

"Do you intend to have one made?" Richard's eyes lit up.

"Yes, but it will not be for me. It will be a wedding gift from me to you," Darcy smirked.

"Oh, cousin, I could kiss you for that!" Richard grinned. "I have been wanting to get my hands on one for a long time, but she would not divulge the information. How did you manage it?"

"I had to pay her, but she knew I could close her establishment if she refused point blank. The house belongs to me, and I could have arranged a termination of her lease."

"Darcy, you could have been spotted. I hope you did not go during the day."

"When else am I to go? I cannot sneak out at night, can I? Besides, it is too busy during the evening."

"But what if Elizabeth finds out?"

"She will not. I took my horse and used the secret pathways behind the dwelling. No one will have seen me."

"You hope."

"So, have you told her yet? That you love her?"

"No. I believe we have come to an unspoken understanding and there is no need for words. I am sure we love each other."

"Sure? What is wrong with you, Darce? Can you not spill those sentiments from your benumbed lips? Is it that painful to say? You are one frustrating buffoon, do you know that? I have never in my life come across someone so intent on not going through with his intentions! I give up on you, I really do!"

"You know I do not find words of love easily. I am more demonstrative."

"More like one almighty prick! She could just see your _demonstrative affections_ as nothing more than those of a randy goat. Tell her, man! Does she not deserve to hear the declaration from her own husband?"

"But she has not declared herself to me."

"Women rarely do take the lead in this sort of thing. Beckie only told me of her affections after I had made mine quite clear with the three little words, although it ended up being a few paragraphs in my case. She had said she loved me from the beginning and had been taught never to show more affection than was necessary."

"Why should they not show how they feel?"

"It is not becoming to overdo things. Did you like the women fawning all over you in Town?"

"No, but that was different. Those women were not my wife, and their attentions were false."

"We are getting off topic now. Tell her, before it is too late and the love she does have evaporates due to your non-committal." Darcy felt his cousin's words with much force. Why had he hesitated so many times? Even he was getting annoyed with himself. "I'm going to bed. I am so angry with you right now, cousin, and I need to get to sleep before my father starts rutting my mother within earshot, and I am in no fit mood to continue this discussion."

Darcy remained in his study; he sat back and sighed. He had never been in love before, for he had not even had his head turned by a pretty woman. All those ladies in town who showed any amount of interest only gave him one feeling, that of a fox being hunted by a pack of blood-thirsty hounds.

He felt his heart grow heavy at the fact he was keeping a secret. A love that was so passionate, he thought he would die if she were to just vanish into thin air. He had one regret, that this love had been formed after they had decided to marry, and that the decision had been taken away from him by his father. Could he tell Elizabeth everything?

He would be able to explain to her the contents of the Will and the clause, but comfort her with the knowledge that even though he did not love her from the beginning, he was exceedingly attracted to her. From the very first moment he had walked into the parlour at Gracechurch Street, he was a dead duck, and when he took his vows, he had not lied to god. "To love and to cherish" he had vowed, and he would make it so until he drew his last breath.

Not having any experience in the declaration of love, he realised it was going to be harder than he had first thought. Yes, he could just say ' _I Love You_ ,' but he realised there was a need to explain the Will. He reluctantly agreed to Mr Gardiner's wishes to keep the information from her, but now felt it would do more damage than good if she were ever to find out by other means, and the secret was burning a hole in his heart. But how would he approach such a subject without upsetting her?

He pulled his father's Will from the small vault in his study and spread out the documents over his desk, where he read them repeatedly and waited for inspiration, but there was nothing.

It was incredibly late, but Darcy could not let this go one more day; his courage had risen during his cousin's onslaught of anger and he now had the strength to tell her that night, or else he would lose the momentum and refuse to acknowledge his feelings once more.

The candles upon his desk had burnt low, and knowing that there was newly lit candelabrum in the library, he decided to retrieve one to continue. As he left through one door, Elizabeth, who had grown tired of waiting had entered through another. _Where has he gotten to?_ she thought, but then spied the adjoining door to the library, which was ajar so sat herself down at his desk, waiting for him to return.

She perused the papers in front of her and noticed the heading, _'_ _George Darcy, Last Will and Testament'_. She could not help herself and started to read the contents but before she knew it, she was absorbed enough not to notice her husband returning. In a shock reaction, Darcy shouted at her, "Elizabeth! What are you doing? Those are private papers, which do not concern you!"

Elizabeth jumped to her feet at the outburst; stunned into silence. She quickly moved to make her way out of the room, but Darcy attempted to stop her as he mollified his temper."Elizabeth?" he pleaded remorsefully. She did not wish to acknowledge his regret for she was too despondent, so continued the way to her rooms, where she locked the door.

 _Has she read enough to know?_ he thought in a panic. He looked down at the papers on his desk. Nothing seemed to be out of place, and all the pages were as he had left them. He was relieved to see that the only paragraphs visible did not display the clause.

Now he found himself in a newly formed predicament; how was he to work his way out of this? He went to his rooms and upon seeing the empty bed, knocked on the adjoining door and waited. "Fitzwilliam, I am sorry that I disturbed you. I only meant to bid you goodnight as I am exhausted, please go back to your work and do not worry about me." Darcy was reluctant but returned to his rooms. Pacing the floor, he was now trying to come up with an apology for his abrupt outburst.

It was not long before he gave up fretting. On checking his wife's door once more, he found it locked, so he took to his bed alone.

He was unable to sleep, and lay awake with so many questions, _Why was I so stupid to get those papers from the safety of a locked vault? Why did I leave them unattended on my desk of all things?_ His thoughts plagued his mind for hours until he finally fell to sleep just before daybreak.

When Elizabeth had entered her rooms that night, she had immediately sat down at her desk. The words turned over and over in her mind, _'_ _The remainder of the estate is entailed to Fitzwilliam Darcy on one condition.'_ What condition? Why was her husband so secretive about a document she already owned. Owned, but not in possession of. She quickly wrote a missive to her uncle in the dim light of the candle, requesting the return of her father's papers by express and with much haste. She gave the note to Hannah and bid her to have it sent by express before the maid retired for the night, and not to disclose the action to her husband. It had gone one in the morning, but many of the servants were still attending to their duties as the family had retired late. The sooner the letter was sent, the better, but what was Elizabeth to do in the meantime? _Patience, I must have patience,_ she thought before preparing for bed and the sleepless night which she knew she would have to endure.


	34. Piece by Piece, it Begins

-0-

Elizabeth was not sure if she had awoken early, or if it had been a case of not having slept at all. There she lay, staring up at the canopy of her overlarge and half-empty bed with an inability to comprehend the delicate colours of the fabric above her. All she could see was his face, his god damn beautiful, yet enraged face from the night before. _Those are private papers, which do not concern you,_ he had bellowed. But it was something that did affect her; she knew there must have been some amount of detailing in the words of that document which, within the lines of script, bore her name.

She had quickly concluded that he was attempting to hide something, a secret that could change her opinion or outlook, perhaps? She had no clue as to what that could be, but it would hopefully only be a matter of a couple of days before she had her answer.

Her letter had been written the night before and sealed after adding a bank note to cover the cost of the express, for she did not wish for her relatives to foot the expense. A footman had been summoned with the request that the messenger remain in her uncle's presence and return with the expected reply; he was not to come back empty-handed. The envelope was delivered to the postmaster, who confirmed it would be carried to Town immediately by one of his well-rested sons. The boy would travel day and night, changing horses regularly, and only sleeping when he had reached his destination. Then he would commence his return journey after he had rested, regardless of the time of day. If this were the case and her uncle was quick in his reply, she would have her answer by the third day, or by the end of the second, if she was in luck. Luck? Would it be lucky for her to find out this unknown condition her husband had to meet, sooner rather than later? She could not rest until she knew everything, nor could she act as though nothing had happened. Attempting to believe that all was smelling of roses in the blissful garden of their marriage, was not possible. In reality, a thunderous storm had blasted in from the north so suddenly, that it threatened to rip the roots of their matrimonial shrubs from where they had been planted; the upturned foundations of their marriage would result in a barren wasteland.

She rose from her resting place, hours before any of the staff were expecting their mistress to awaken. The previous evening had been late, and the servants anticipated the occupants to sleep until at least ten that morning, so it was with little surprise to Elizabeth that Hannah had rushed, unprepared, when the bell cord was pulled. "I am sorry for the early start," Elizabeth apologised on seeing her slightly flustered abigail, "but I just cannot lay here and do nothing." Elizabeth looked tired; her sallow skin and dark rings beneath her eyes did not go amiss with the maid, but as a dutiful servant, she said nothing about her appearance.

"Maybe a hot bath will be beneficial. I can have one prepared if you wish."

"No, I do not care for bathing this morning. Maybe later tonight, as it will help me relax. Do you know if Mr Darcy has risen yet?"

"No, ma'am, Roger has yet to be called to assist and does not expect to see to the master for some time."

"Very well. I will go for a walk before I take breakfast on a tray in my rooms, as I see quite a bit of the snow has melted," Elizabeth stated as she gazed out of the window.

"Yes, it has rained during the night and has not frozen back over. The sun is out, but the air is crisp."

After seeing to her ablutions and dressing, she set out for her walk. The tranquillity of her favourite spot was calling to her, so she made her way towards the bridge. Elizabeth sat on a fallen tree by the babbling waters, which had made an ideal seat, and looked back at the house. Her eyes were drawn to the windows of her husband's bedchambers and noticed the pale blue curtains still closed. Breathing out her relief, she was satisfied in the knowledge that as he was still in slumber; it was unlikely that he would encroach on her quiet solitude for at least an hour, so she attempted not to be so guarded.

She did not know what to do, or how to behave when she would next be in his presence. She did not feel anger towards him, but there was a tightness in her chest, which she could only describe as an ache. Her husband's reaction was abrupt, but he instantly regretted his words, for did he not show contrition immediately afterwards? He had called out to her with a degree of remorse knowing his curt outburst was a result of surprise and this had startled her, but even with curtailed anger, she still could not bring herself to look at him. She should have stayed and heard what he had to say, but all she wished to do was to be out of his company before she ended up in a puddle of tears.

On seeing the drapes open to her husband's rooms, she panicked. He could be readying himself quickly and standing in front of her before long if she did not move; she was sure he had spotted her in the grounds. She got up and walked back to the house via the kitchens, but on passing the stables, she spotted the Earl coming towards her on his horse.

"Jolly nice grounds at Pemberley, even in the winter months. I do so love letting my beast free when I am here," he stated as they both reached the stables.

"Such a wonderful horse," Elizabeth said. She tried to pull herself together and not let her relative see her disquiet, so came forward to stroke the animal's muzzle. "Have you had him long?"

"About six years; inherited him from Darcy's father. Fine stud too. Made me a proud owner of several fowls worth a few bob, but I kept most of them."

"Did you attend Mr Darcy's Will reading then?" Elizabeth could not help but ask; he was sure to be there if he was a beneficiary.

"Yes?" the Earl answered, but puzzled at why she was bringing up the subject.

"How did Fitzwilliam react on hearing it? I mean, to have such conditions laid down before you," she asked with a degree of false knowledge.

"Ah! Yes, well, he was not happy. Went off on a rant if you must know, and stormed out of the room in a fit of anger. I believe the door even needed a carpenter's touch to make it work again; the thing was almost hanging off of its hinges. He was in a terrible mood for days afterwards, but he seemed to calm down eventually. Think it was his age, did not want to be pushed in whatever direction other's had chosen… Oh! Erm…" The earl's ears pinked as he realised his mistake, for was Elizabeth not the cause of such a commotion?

Elizabeth took this in hand but did not question the Earl further. This singular piece of information was now proving the Will's impact on her husband's life. The agitation which the subject occasioned brought on a bout of nausea, then Elizabeth's skin started to turn clammy and cold in the winter's air. She grabbed her stomach as the biliousness continued to rise.

"Are you unwell, little one?" the Earl asked with much concern on seeing how pale his new niece had turned.

"I suddenly feel quite ill. Perhaps I've been out too long."

"Let me give my horse to the stable boy, and we can go back to the house."

The Earl led the beast into the stables, where a young man took the animal. For some reason, she was drawn towards one of the stalls, and when she got there, she was consumed with the vision of Neptune, who was peering out from the opened upper section of the stable door and whinnied. There were no white markings on the animal; he was as black as black could be.

 _The horse outside of the smoking rooms was Neptune,_ she thought. _Why would my maid say it was not?_ She remembered Hannah's agreement, then with some panic, she changed her mind and coaxed Elizabeth away from the establishment. Was she hiding something? Was the smoking room a place she was not to know about? Then it suddenly dawned on her. ' _Quality services and merchandise for the Gallant Gentleman._ _'_ Services! What services?

She felt the Earl's arm before his voice rang in her ears, "You are not well at all! Come, we must get you back so you can rest."

The Earl supported her weakened body back to the house, and entered via the kitchens, as it was much quicker. On seeing Mrs Darcy, Mrs Reynolds took over and with the help of the mistresses maid, escorted Elizabeth to her bedchambers.

"Hannah?" Elizabeth asked when they were alone. "What is the purpose of the smoking rooms in the village?" The maid stood there; utter shock spread across her face.

"I… I can not say, ma'am," Hannah replied, her voice was determined, but Elizabeth could discern a level of concealment.

"Can not, or will not?"

"Mistress, please do not ask this of me," she whimpered.

"Hannah, I need to know for sure. Is it the local Cyprian?" Hannah bit her lip as it began to tremble, then nodded her head in acknowledgement. "Is she the woman that the master has been to see in the past?" Again, the maid silently affirmed Elizabeth's suspicions. "Lock the doors; I do not wish for anyone, especially my husband, to come in."

"But, what if he demands it of me?"

"Tell him I am unwell, and if he continues to urge your compliance, tell him I have my monthly courses, that should pay heed to his demands."

"But you have not? Mrs Darcy, do you realise you are late?"

"Yes, I am well aware of the fact." Elizabeth started to sob. "Hannah, what am I to do?" Elizabeth held her palm against her belly knowing that there was a likelihood she was with child.

"Ma'am, there must be an innocent explanation. I am sure the master loves you and would not do anything that would harm you."

"But he has never told me he loves me. Do you not realise that his actions would not harm me if I were not aware of his infidelity. Discretion is paramount to keeping a blissfully ignorant wife. How could he do this to me?" Elizabeth continued to sob in her maid's arms. She had completely ignored the fact that her husband had stipulated on more than one occasion that he would not be unfaithful to her. He was as honest as they came, and even though he was a hot-blooded man needing the comforts of a woman, he was no liar when it came to those he loved. Her sensitiveness had been stimulated by the small bairn in her womb, and all fundamental reasoning had been abandoned in favour of illogical thoughts.

* * *

"Good morning, all," the Earl stated as he came into the breakfast room. He sat down beside Lady Matlock and kissed her on the cheek. "Hope you are in fine spirits this morning, my precious." He kissed her once more.

"Henry, not at the table," she chastised, but her tone was quite the opposite to one who was not happy with her husband's attention.

"Then, maybe under the table?" he chuckled.

"Father! I am eating." Richard growled as he repeatedly stuck his fork into his blood pudding with force, with an attempt to ignore his parents.

"Well, you seem to be stabbing at your food from what I can see. What has that sausage ever done to you?" Richard rolled his eyes. "Oh, Darcy, I just had to escort Elizabeth up to her rooms. She took quite ill by the stables this morning."

"What is the matter?" he gasped. He stood and went to leave the table, but the Earl grabbed his forearm before he would remove himself.

"Leave her be for a moment. She wishes to rest, and it would not do her good if you go stampeding your way into her rooms just to ease your worries."

"But she-"

"I believe she is only indisposed," the Earl stated with a significant look, but Darcy ignored the meaning behind his words.

"No, I must go to her!" he commanded, shrugged his uncle's clinch and went in search of his wife.

* * *

True to Elizabeth's predictions, a knock was heard at the door in the passageway. "Do not let him in, I do not wish to see him," she sobbed. Hannah, who had managed to lock the doors but a few minutes previous was sitting by her mistress, holding her hand.

"We will need to do something, mistress, for I doubt he will go away."

Darcy was stood out in the corridor, waiting for his wife's response, but there was only silence so tried the door handle, but found it locked. Not wanting to talk to her in such a public place with servants in earshot, he ventured into the sitting room and attempted to open the adjoining door, but again it was locked.

"Elizabeth, let me in!" Darcy called from the sitting room.

"No!" came a choked reply as Elizabeth was trying to fight back her tears. It would not do to let her husband know what sort of state she was in; she needed her courage to rise in the face of adversity and meet him with strength, but she was powerless to control her tears.

"Elizabeth? What is the matter? The Earl said you were not well; I wish to see you… Please." There was no reply. "Elizabeth, open the door!" he said with a firmer tone as her muteness began to agitate him. "This is no time to be taciturn. Answer me!"

"Hannah, you will have to tell him what we agreed upon. I will go and lock myself in the dressing room as he will try and force his way in if he sees me like this."

Elizabeth entered the dressing room as the maid made her way to the adjoining door. As she turned the key, Darcy pushed his way in. "Elizabeth," he called out as he frantically looked around the room. "Hannah, where is my wife?"

"She's in the dressing room, but you can't go in there."

"Why ever not?" he growled.

"It's locked… sir."

"What is all this about? I demand an explanation."

"Mistress has told me to tell you that she has started her menses and does not wish to be disturbed. She only wants to rest on her own… with no one around…. by herself… and alone…. " the maid replied nervously.

"Menses?" Darcy choked out.

"Yes, sir. They just came this morning," she blushed.

Darcy sunk down onto the edge of the bed and buried his face in his hands. She was not with child after all. He had presumed too quickly and was now paying the price of disappointment as he had allowed himself during the previous few days to hope, and that hope had started to grow into love for the little one. As he stood there watching the fireworks the night before, he realised that he was not only holding his wife in his arms, but also his firstborn; his family were encircled in his embrace, and it felt wonderful. "I thought she was…" He shook his head and rose to leave the room before finishing his words; he could not say them aloud.

"Sir?" Hannah asked when noticing how upset he had become; the look of sheer despair on his face made her wonder if he had noticed Elizabeth's lateness. _Of course he has noticed, you fool, he_ _'_ _s with her morning, noon, and night_. She felt guilty for telling him a falsehood, for his wife had still yet to see, and it had been nearly a week; even the mistress thought she was in the family way. She knew some women went through life all upside down and back to front with their courses, but her mistresses cyclic pattern was prompt.

She watched as the master pitifully drag himself across the length of the sitting room before entering his bedchambers, then the gentle click of the door indicated his complete removal. The maid could not help herself and padded quietly towards the closed door and listened at the keyhole. There, contrition consumed her completely as she heard the heartbreaking lamentations of a man's grief, for Darcy was in tears.


	35. Oh, Father Why?

-0-

It had been a full hour before Darcy was composed enough to return to his guests, who had now moved into the music room. Georgiana had finally risen and after a quick breakfast chose to entertain everyone with a piece she had mastered the night before. "Elizabeth helped me with the difficult parts; she plays so well," she stated after all had applauded her on accomplishing what deemed to be a complicated movement.

"Good Lord, Darcy, you look like you have lost a thousand guineas at the card tables?" Richard stated as Darcy came into the room bleary-eyed before slumping into a nearby chair; he bowed his head into the cradle of his hands but did not answer. "Georgie, can you go and see if Mrs Reynolds needs a hand with something or another," Richard stated in order to get the youngster out of the room.

"Something or another? I do not think she needs anything from me."

"Just go, Georgiana. I need to talk to your brother… and do not look at my mother for support; I am your guardian, not she." With that, the girl huffed, got up, and went to her rooms to sulk, indicating that no one told her anything.

"Out with it, Darcy, what has you in a bother this time?" Richard demanded.

"Richard, do not be so harsh!" Lady Matlock chastised. "Do we need to call a doctor for Elizabeth? Did you find her very ill?"

"No, it is not that. She will not talk to me. I lost my temper last night and censured her; I did not willfully wish to shout, but she took me by surprise, and I lashed out. She bolted from the room, and when I went to her bedchambers last night, attempting to explain, she refused me admission. Now she will not see me or even talk to me through the door," he sighed.

"What took you by surprise to bark at her?"

"She found my father's Will on the desk, and I'm sure she read part of it before I came in. How much, I do not know."

"Do you think she knows about the clause? I know you wished to tell her but to find out by her own adventures." Richard shook his head woefully. "This must have come as some amount of shock to her after being ignorant of the whole matter for so long. Then again, I doubt she knows it all, for she would be throwing the best china at your head if she did."

The Earl was keenly listening to all of this, and he felt his stomach turn when he realised that Elizabeth was more ignorant that morning than she led him to believe. "Blast! Darcy, I am terribly sorry," the Earl spluttered. "When I met Elizabeth this morning, she asked about Cyclops, and the conversation drifted into the direction of the reading of the Will. She asked about your reaction to the conditions laid down by your father. I thought she knew."

Darcy's heart almost beat out of his chest when his uncle spoke. "What did you say?" he gasped.

"Something along the lines of that you had a tantrum and stormed out of the room. I did not detail anything in the actual document as I was under the assumption Elizabeth already knew. Now I understand why she took ill; it happened immediately after that discussion."

"Did she give you the impression she was aware of the clause?" The Earl explained to Darcy that she had indicated it, but not stated for a fact. "She did not know. Her uncle did not wish for her to be put into a position of understanding my situation; her choice had to be without guilt, or the feeling of burden upon either myself or her relatives, and so would allow her the freedom to decide for herself."

"Has she not got a copy? I distinctly remember the solicitor stating that Mr Bennet had his own duplicate papers," Lady Matlock asked.

"Mr Bennet did have a copy, but Elizabeth handed them directly to her uncle without reading them. He kept them away from her, and he still has them in his hold. She will hate me for all of eternity when she finds out."

"Oh, Fitzwilliam." Lady Matlock consoled as she came and sat beside him. "I am sure she will not. She is no doubt hurt and angry. She will come around."

"Will she? I cannot even get into her rooms to start pleading for forgiveness, so how is she to understand."

"Do you want me to talk to her?" Lady Matlock asked. "It might be easier for her to speak with a woman."

"No, she will not be pleased if she was aware of you all knowing; maybe I should not have said anything."

"Do you think it is best for us to return home and take Georgie with us? Richard can easily escort her back to school next week. This will allow you to at least have privacy once you do start to communicate." Darcy nodded his agreement. "Give her a day or two to herself and let her calm down, then approach her once she is in a better frame of mind. Come, Henry, we will pack our trunks and be off for home before it gets dark. I will go tell Georgiana our plans." Lady Matlock and her husband left the two young men to continue their discussion. She knew her son must be privy to more than what Darcy had already divulged.

"Darce, I hate to say it, but this is what you get when you do not make your feelings known in the first place. I told you, again and again, to tell her how you felt, but you did not. Now she is doubting everything because she believes you do not respect her, let alone love her. She probably thinks you just took her as a wife for her breeding capabilities and I bet since your marriage, you have not been able to keep away from planting your seed into her womb."

"Enough!" Darcy cried as he stood abruptly. His fists clenched and his jaw tight. "You make it sound as though my taking her as a wife was a flippant act just to begat an heir, that I procured her in some sort of cattle market. She means much more to me than that!"

"I did not say you did marry her for those reasons, but you must agree that she may think that because you have not given her any just cause to think not. If she knew how much her husband was devoted to her, she would know where she stood in your life, as an equal you respect and cherish, and not be so confused right now thinking you married her for her abilities to bear children. You must admit, most marriages that are arranged in our circle are based on such qualities along with the advantages of wealth and connection. She has only moderately provided on one of those scores, so it only goes to follow that she may feel you married her for the physical strength these country girls seem to exude."

"You honestly think she feels that way? What have I done, Richard?" Darcy gasped. Taking deep breaths, he tried to steady his building emotions.

"She is probably lost in her confusion. You have not really done anything wrong, other than shout at her in a moment of panic and not give her full disclosure of something she is still fairly ignorant to. The main thing is that she needs to feel wanted, reassured that her place here is desired, that you love her." Richard paused to think. "Tell me, this non-disclosure of your father's wishes, did her uncle want her to know?"

"No, he did not. I wanted to tell her from the start, I advised him that I did not like deceit. After hearing my feelings on the matter, he still was of the mind not to reveal any of it. He thought that if Elizabeth had agreed knowing I was forced into the marriage, she would not be able to live with the guilt, and if she did not wish to marry me…"

"She could have said no?"

"But that was a gamble I was prepared to take if we had told her, but her uncle would not take the chance. I would not have lost anything other than the restrictions to whom I could marry eventually, so it was in my favour if she refused. But, Richard, once I saw her, I had to have her; there was no way, even from the first day we were reacquainted, I could have let her go. I would have pestered her until she agreed."

"I suppose that is what happens when you finally have your head turned."

"That first day, I even attempted my poor seduction skills. I must say that she did respond quite amiably, even if my attentions were rather inept. It was not long before she had thoroughly undone me and I could not bear to be out of her company; I was completely and utterly consumed in a matter of weeks. I am almost sure she is some sort of enchantress who has cast her spell upon me."

"Ah, yes, I remember now, the romantic German lied."

"I have been a fool, Richard, I should have taken heed of your advice and acted upon it, now it is all too late."

"You should have, but it is not too late; it is never too late. You need to allow her to calm as mother said, then at the first opportunity tell her everything."

* * *

 **Gracechurch Street that evening.**

"Sir, an express has arrived," the butler stated as he came into the parlour where Mr and Mrs Gardiner were sitting after the children had gone to bed. "He has been told to wait for a reply."

"Show him in, Greaves," Mr Gardiner stated with some concern.

The young man entered the room, and Mrs Gardiner immediately gasped. "You are Mr Mellow's boy, Jeremy! It must be from Elizabeth, Edward, open it at once!"

"Miss Brooks! Oh, I mean Mrs Gardiner," Jeremy said, startled at meeting an old acquaintance.

"I take it you know each other," Mr Gardiner stated as he took the missive from Jeremy.

Mrs Gardiner nee Brooks had lived in Lambton eleven years previous. She had stayed for several months with her aunt and uncle, who owned the bookshop at the far end of the village, before travelling south for her first season. It was in the year '01 that she met and fell in love with Mr Gardiner, and within the year they had settled at Gracechurch Street.

"Yes, I knew him when I lived in Lambton, he was only about twelve at the time. I hope everything is well at Pemberley?" Mrs Gardiner asked with concern.

"It looks like she needs her father's documents. I take it you are to return with them?"

"Yes, sir. I was told that I couldn't return empty-handed."

"Then you must stay for the night and make your return at first light, as my niece wants a quick response. You can have a bed here if you have not already booked yourself into the inn."

"No, not done that yet, sir; I came straight here. It would be nice to have a bit of comfort; those town inns are a bit rowdy at night; can't get an ounce of sleep."

"Then we will feed and water you before you retire as I am sure you have ridden through last night. The horse you arrived on can stay in our stables at the back of the house and should be fit to ride the first leg tomorrow. I will have the stable hand to come collect him to save you the bother. I will gather these papers together and write Elizabeth a note to accompany them." Mr Gardiner went to his study to re-read the missive. He did not wish to alert his wife in front of the post-boy, but it seemed Elizabeth was in rather a state. Knowing the concealment was his idea, he felt obliged to write a covering note to let it be known it was his decision and not that of her husband's.

* * *

 **Pemberley**

It had been late the following evening when the papers arrived from London. Elizabeth had kept to her rooms during this time, only venturing out onto the balcony for much needed fresh air when she had determined her husband was away from the house on estate business.

He had left her alone, as she had requested, but she did not know if this had made her happy or not. She yearned for him just to come and break down the door, plead at her feet for forgiveness, and love her for all of eternity, but she knew he would not. _That is the stuff of romance novels,_ she thought, _the hero would do anything for his lady to the point of falling upon the blade of his sword if she so wished him to._ The stark reality was much different; her heart ached, her body had weakened, her head pounded, and she could not stop the tears from falling. _At the rate I am going, it will not be long before I create another Pemberley lake, right here in my bedchambers._

Darcy was at his wits' end with not going to her. He had taken the advice of both his cousin and aunt as well as his wife's wishes, but this did not stop him from sleeping in the sitting room at night. He had pushed a chair up against the adjoining door so that he could at least be close to her whilst he tried to sleep. This, however, uncovered her constant state of unhappiness as he listened to her muffled cries as she sobbed into her pillow.

"Sir, an express has come for the mistress," Mrs Reynolds announced as she entered the study. One look at the handwriting on the parcel and Darcy instantly knew they were from Elizabeth's uncle, and therefore understood what the package contained. "Take it to Mrs Darcy, directly," he stated with some sadness. He wanted to take the bundle of papers and throw them into the fire and have done with it, but the lack of evidence, would not mean the end of the matter. She would just demand his copy for her perusal. _Blast that Will and blast father!_ He thought if it would help for him to deliver them, he would, but Elizabeth would most likely refuse him entry and have her maid take the articles, so it was just as well that Mrs Reynolds handed them over with as little stress involved as possible.

"Yes, sir, at once," Mrs Reynolds said, but she hesitated on exiting. "Sir, I am sorry if I speak out of turn, but all the household has noticed the distance between you and the mistress of late. I hope that you can soon resolve whatever it is that has come between you, for we do love you both." Darcy looked up to meet the eyes of the only constant woman in his life since the age of six, who had been in his company day in day out. She had been there when he most needed her, almost taking the role of a surrogate mother after his own mama's death. Tears began to sting, threatening to spill, but he managed to hold back the dam which had started to crack.

"I do not know what to do, Maggie." His voice faltered as he spoke and Mrs Reynolds knew that he needed her. She came to his side and grabbed his hand in an attempt to console him.

"I do not need to know what has happened, sir, but most marriages go through their ups and downs. I did with my husband before his death."

"You never did tell me about him. What was he like?" Darcy asked in an attempt to not sink into despair at the thought of his own marriage state.

"A loving and caring man, although his mind was full of what was happening in France, being French and all." Darcy looked shocked. "I am English, sir, but my married name is actually Reinold; I changed the spelling after his death. We lived in England, but Gérard was too enthusiastic about what was happening in his homeland, and he kept returning to France when he heard something was about to occur. It was on one of those trips that he was killed. The riots during the unrest in Grenoble in 1788 did not kill or injure many, but it was to be his last adventure. A group of soldiers fired into a mob Gérard was in; they were commanded to shoot in order to protect the city's arsenal. Well, I was told he was dead before he hit the ground."

"Dear, Lord! I did not know this."

"No one does, sir. It would not do to go around telling people my husband was in the pre-stirrings of the French Revolt."

"I suppose not. How did you cope with losing him?"

"I just tried to get on with life, but it was a struggle the first few months. I moved directly to Lambton after living in the south, as my sister was already here with her husband. Then I discovered I was with child, but that little soul did not grow to be born, as I miscarried two months later. I am sure it was the grief that brought it about."

"I am so sorry to hear that. I cannot imagine what you must have gone through," he said sympathetically. If he was upset with only a few days belief his wife was with child, just to have it dashed by premature assumptions, then how would he feel in Mrs Reynolds position? To have lost not only her spouse but his precious child she was carrying.

"But then I heard your father was seeking a new housekeeper, so I applied. The job was my saviour, as I had been in a downward spiral since Gérard's death; one look from a little boy with dark brown eyes and black curly hair, I knew my life would be full again." Darcy shyly smiled. "Sometimes we do not realise what treasures we have in our lives until they are gone, sir. Do not let what you and the mistress have be consumed with belligerence and misery, for everyone in this household can tell you love each other very much."

* * *

 **... Following on from the opening scene in chapter 1...**

...

"Oh, father... Why?" she whispered. She had been awake all night, reading and then re-reading the documents which the housekeeper had produced the night before.

Her eyes cast down from the window bar, where a puddle of rain had formed, to the documents which sat in front of her; the words laughing and taunting her from their position on the desk.

' _If you see fit not to honour my agreement with Miss Bennet's father, the estate will be transferred to Georgiana Darcy on your thirty-fifth birthday.'_

The words jumped out at her, threatening to strike her across the face with their enforcement. There was no doubt now that Darcy had been forced into marriage, or else lose his home. Now she understood her position; she was only an unwanted encumbrance which was most undoubtedly expendable once Darcy had grown tired of her body. He did not love her; he did not need her, his only desire was Pemberley, and she was a pleasant distraction in his bed until he wished to cast her aside for a mistress after she had given him a boy.

Her uncle had talked to her the evening before she met with Darcy, and cringed on what he said for he must have known the reason behind the gentleman's willingness to meet her. Remembering he had said that Darcy was willing to honour his father's wish and marry. _Oh, yes, he was willing enough, for if he were not, he would forfeit his inheritance._

She stood as anger started to rage through her body and went towards the door.

"Ma'am, where are you going?" Hannah cried out, but Elizabeth did not respond. She marched down the stairs, still in her nightgown and robe, and flung the study door open to find Darcy within.

"Elizabeth!" he gasped.


	36. A Cathartic Read

**AN**

 **I've tried not to put too many notes in this story which would distract you from reading, but seems I had quite a bit of feedback on the last chapter,lol.**

 **Okay...**

 **Mr Gardiner's letter had not been read in the last chapter, reasons will be in this one. I wanted her to read it after she half realised and after the events at the beginning of this chapter.**

 **How many chapters left? Not sure. Looking at the original I am about three quarters of the way through, but not sure how much more detail I will put into the last quarter. It may go quicker than the earlier chapters.**

 **Yep, Elizabeth did a nasty thing in lying about the baby, but remember she did not know he had realised. If she had an inkling he was aware, I doubt she would have done that.**

 **Personally, I wanted it to get to a point where you all thought as Hannah does whilst standing on the lawn in this chapter, (although not with the cleaning of the grates in the drawing room.)**

 **You will all be pleased, not cliffhanger this chapter (I do like cliffies :p )**

* * *

"Elizabeth!" he gasped.

* * *

She looked pale, except for the redness of her eyes proving her sleepless nights and sensitive state. Now stood before him was a woman who had gathered storm and was about to unleash a thunderous tirade upon her husband.

"Do not _Elizabeth_ me!" she spat. "How dare you withhold such important information from me?"

"I wanted to tell you, but…"

"Ha! You wanted to tell me. Typical that you now care to admit you wanted to tell me after I discovered your secret for myself. What stopped you, Mr Darcy?"

"Your uncle. He did not wish to taint your decision with the restriction placed upon me."

"So you thought it best to let the little lady remain ignorant?" In the haste to open the package the night before, Elizabeth had neglected to notice her uncle's letter, which was sat at the back of the pile. This missive had inconveniently slipped and fallen onto the floor beneath her desk without Elizabeth noticing. "I suppose you thought if you marry me, you could carry on as usual, as though you were still a single man! I would imagine that there are plenty of courtesans willing to take up the offer of being a kept woman!" Darcy looked shocked, how could she have thought such a thing? "I know, Fitzwilliam! I know you still see that whore in the village! Do you think I would not find out?!"

"What? When? I have not-"

"Do not deny it! I saw Neptune outside the smoking rooms weeks ago. It was only when I discovered recently what the establishment truly was, that I knew what you were up to. Do you deny going there?"

"No, but I was-"

"Well, at least you have the nerve to admit it. And who else are you bedding? Your mistress in Kympton?"

"What? Where has this come from? Elizabeth, I do not have-"

"I am sure Miss Bingley is happily ensconced in a little house there, where you can sneak off to when you say you are on estate business. How foolish I was to believe you when her letter arrived advising me your intimate affiliation."

"Will you stop interrupting me when I try to explain! Mrs Wickham is in Bath with her husband, as well you know!"

"Do I? I have not seen one shred of evidence to prove that, _sir!_ All I know is what you and your cousin have told me, and for all I know, Richard could be bedding the trollop as well. Even Bingley did not mention his sister's marital situation when he forced his way into our home last month. Do you not think he would have at least mentioned it in small talk before he attempted to importune me?"

"You know I received a letter from Wickham before and after his marriage, detailing everything."

"I only know what you told me. You know I did not read the letters, even when you lost your sight; you refused to allow me sight of them, so I can only assume it was because the missives… do… not… exist!"

"It was because of his crass words. You think Richard is vulgar, Wickham is ten times worse. I would not let you read such profanities."

"Pah! Very convenient that he should be so uncouth with his words."

"He always has been." Darcy took a deep breath to calm himself. "Believe me when I say that I was not forced into marrying you, even if you have a mountain of proof to show otherwise. Do you not remember the day we met again? How I paid particular attention to you to the point of being improper when your relations left us alone? If I had not wished to wed you, I would have made your life a living hell, and you would have refused me. If I did not desire to take you for my wife, I would have shown disdain in the hopes of discouraging you, but I did not! I encouraged you!"

"Your actions, if you had chosen to be ungentlemanly, would have been classed as coercion and the Will states clearly that I cannot be coaxed into a decision."

"You are pushing that a bit too far. Even if I did not wish you as a wife, I could have remained taciturn and haughty without being persuasive, which I had tended to be when in the presence of ladies who had an avid interest in me; it would not have been out of character for me to act as such."

"I doubt that you are such a disagreeable man when the fine eyes of a pretty woman looks your way, for you would not get very far in lifting their hems if you were."

"Elizabeth! I have lifted no hems except yours since we met in London. As I have previously stated, I do not wish to make you a cuckquean and have not sought out pleasures with another since this time last year!"

"Why bother with your lies, Mr Darcy? You do not seem to be a person who cares one jot about anyone other than yourself!"

"I do care! I BLOODY LOVE YOU!" he shouted from across the room.

Silence filled the space between them before Elizabeth stormed out, declaring that he had gone too far with his lies.

On her exit, she almost knocked Hannah, who had been listening at the keyhole, out of the way. She stood back as the master rushed out after his wife, but Elizabeth was already up the stairs and halfway into the family wing before he reached the first step. He turned and walked out of the front door and into the grounds, before stalking around the side of the house and coming to a still on the lawn outside of her bedchambers' window. "I WILL NOT LET YOU WALK OUT ON ME AND NOT HEAR MY SIDE! ELIZABETH! AT LEAST LET ME HAVE MY SAY!"

There was no reply.

"ELIZABETH!"

Still no response.

Afflicted at the lack of her return, he sunk to his knees, where he gazed down at the dewy grass. The clarity of the green blades began to merge into a blur as tears filled his eyes. "I was not lying. I do love you," he mumbled.

"Sir?" Hannah stated as she came out after him with his greatcoat. "You will catch a chill."

"Who cares if I catch a chill and die! Certainly not my wife!" he shouted. "Leave me alone!"

Hannah would not move. She knew that both the mistress and master were in a place they would find difficult to emerge from unless someone gave them a helping hand. "Sir, did you know the mistress spends quite a lot of her time reading. She does like to read a great deal and sends me to the library to fetch a book or two each day. Although none seem to be interesting enough for her to turn the page. Maybe she needs a cathartic read to keep her interest."

Darcy did not say anything but snuffled.

"Do you write a great deal, sir? I understand you keep a diary, and I know those chronicles can hold a plethora of information." Darcy looked up at the maid in confusion. "It is just that I am sure if you were to be in the library at around two this afternoon, you would be able to assist me in finding quite a good read, which will make the mistress feel so much better."

"Are you saying you want me to hand over my innermost thoughts to you?"

"Only as a custodian for a few minutes, so that I can deliver it to Mrs Darcy. Maybe a little note inside the front cover will improve the chances of her reading further into the book."

"I doubt she would even attempt to read past the first paragraph. No, she has made it quite clear that she hates me and wants nothing to do with me."

"That is not what her behaviour these past two days has displayed _._ _"_

"Well, you are wrong," he sighed. "Mrs Darcy has made it plainly clear what she thinks of me, by abusing me so abominably to my face."

 _Good Lord!_ she thought, _I could knock both of your heads together and only discover half a brain between you! I do not know why I bother with this; I would get more satisfaction out of cleaning the sooted grates in the drawing room!_

"Is she not worth fighting for, sir? I thought you would have bent over backwards to win her back. I will be in the library at two, if you decide you wish to try my suggestion." Hannah walked off leaving a very bewildered man on his knees.

* * *

 _-0-_

 _My darling, Elizabeth._

 _Please be not alarmed, my love, on receiving this letter, for I fear there is no other way in which to respond to the offences you have so violently laid at my door. You must, therefore, pardon the freedom with which I demand your attention; your feelings, I hope will not be so angered to refuse me this one chance to explain, and hopefully redeem myself from the accusations, which was this morning so liberally bestowed._

 _You have accused me of several offences, so please allow me to lay before you the truth._

 _In relation to the accusation of taking service from the local cyprian. I have only entered that building once since we returned to the area as man and wife and it was not as you had thought. My cousin, Richard, had on several occasions in the recent past, mentioned a piece of furniture that the woman had in her possession. I had made a decision to procure such a piece for an informal wedding gift, but in order to obtain such an item, I first required the name and direction of the man who had made it. Foolishly, as I now know, I decided to go to her and request the information myself. After handing over a guinea for what was all but a name and direction, she gave me the intelligence then I left, but not before she attempted to fix upon an agreement, which I refused with disgust. I would never employ her comforts; I had a wife at home, whom I respected and loved dearly; I would never be unfaithful to you, you mean too much to me._

 _Yes, Elizabeth, I love you. I have loved you since you sang your father_ _'_ _s favourite poem to the music of that great German master in my music room. Do you remember? I stood in the doorway, mesmerised at your enchanting performance. I know you saw something in me change as we gazed at each other. It was then that you took, held and became protector of my heart. I did not realise it then, not until we journeyed to Pemberley. That first day as I knelt in front of you within the carriage, I realised then that you owned me, body and soul. I became weakened and began to shake at your close proximity, and you thought I was unwell, as I had quieted from my fussing. I told you I was hot, but in reality I was attempting to understand the magnitude of what I had only just discovered. That you were the one and only person in this world whom I would give my life for; you have bewitched me._

 _Two days ago, you desired I leave you alone, and I did. But the time had proven that I could not be without your company. I hearkened to your sorrows at night, as I sat behind the adjoining door, my head resting upon it, listening to you weep. I wished to come to you, but you denied me. I wanted to comfort you, but knew you would not allow me to bestow such tenderness upon your person, and I wished to tell you how much I cared, but you would not listen and I could not force my explanations upon you, however much I needed to._

 _With regards to the charges of Miss Bingley and the idea of myself sharing her bed. I have enclosed the letters from Wickham that will, hopefully, absolve me of the incrimination of infidelity you have cast upon me. Indeed, it shows that the couple are married and living in Bath. Please accept my apologies for the disgraceful language in which George uses, as I said before, you should not have to read such vulgarity._

 _In relation to my father_ _'_ _s Will. When my father died, I was not aware of the agreement between the two older gentlemen. It was not until the reading of the Will that this presented itself. I was but three and twenty at the time and had just lost a second parent and faced the daunting task of being solely responsible for a large estate and the shared guardianship of my younger sibling. I was not in a good place and had a lot of growing up to do. Yes, I behaved as my uncle had said and stormed out of the room on first hearing my destiny, but who would not?_

 _When your uncle wrote to me, I came to your residence the next day whilst you were on errands for your aunt. During my time with the Gardiners, I was asked if the entirety of the Will should be made known to you. I wished for you to be enlightened; I abhor deceit and wanted to allow you to read the whole document before making a decision, but your uncle did not. As he was the one who knew you the best, I allowed his judgement to command my decision, so I reluctantly agreed. At that point, I had come to accept my fate. I had to marry you or lose my home, and yes, I did wish my father had not encumbered me with such a demand. But please believe me, Elizabeth, when I saw you standing by the window in the parlour at Gracechurch Street, my heart skipped a beat. Not only because of your beauty, but that you were the woman who had plagued my very soul for the previous few weeks; ever since I saw you along the lane in Hertfordshire. At first, I thought you a witch who had cast her spell upon me as I rode by. Your face bore into my dreams and did not allow me to rest peacefully. Then, when we met again, I was consumed with you, your essence, your voice, your beauty and your nature consumed me completely. But what I loved about you most, and still do, is your quick wit and intelligence. Most women up until now have simpered and smirked, whilst making love to me in a way that repulsed me. You, on the other hand, teased, mocked, and tantalized me with such delicious torment, that I craved for more. You are my more, Elizabeth._

 _I know you may think I have fabricated all this to suppress your wrath, so I have allowed your maid to deliver my diary, which will cover all of last year and into this. I want you to read it, my love. It is a true and exact record of my thoughts and feelings and was penned at the time. I only wish that I had said them to you and not wasted them within the pages of the tomb you now hold._

 _I hope that after you see how attached I am to you and how wrong your impressions of me have been, that we can come together and restore what we had. I doubt it will happen overnight and I probably will need to earn your trust once more, but please believe me when I say that I did not do anything maliciously or with an intent to injure your sentiments._

 _I love you, my darling wife, so very dearly._

 _Fitzwilliam_

 _-0-_

Elizabeth Darcy, mistress of Pemberley and wife of a grand master, sat quietly as she absorbed the content of his letter. She read it through twice before she was brought out of her reverie by the maid's findings. "Ma'am?" Hannah stated as she bent down under the desk. "Did you know there is a letter here? It was between the back leg and the skirting board. It does not appear to have been read." Hannah handed over the missive and Elizabeth immediately recognised her uncle's hand. She opened it and started to cry, as the words Mr Gardiner wrote proved part of Darcy's reasonings. He had been the one who wanted her to know; it was her uncle who had kept it secret and had pressed her husband into submission.

Elizabeth quickly opened the diary, and two letters fell into her lap. Opening up the first, she laughed through her tears at the language in which Wickham had written. " _I drove into her at a relentless pace for half of the night until my pecker was sore_ _…"_ he had written. She shook her head in astonishment at his words, but what she had concluded from the first few paragraphs was that they had wed, and Caroline Bingley was now Mrs Wickham who was happily living in Bath, and not a seductress awaiting her husband in Kympton.

She opened the diary and began to read. Hours past and she had soaked a pile of handkerchiefs. They were not tears of despair, but tears of joy. She did, however, notice his entry on arriving in London, he had mentioned that he had run from Hertfordshire on hearing her name, but this was eased somewhat by the mention of a beauty whose gaze had pierced his soul as he departed the area. "What a stupid man you are, Fitzwilliam," she quietly but happily chastised.

She had constantly read, skipping the weeks where he was blinded, for none of the passages were legible, other than a few odd words, as the pages were covered in ink blotches. Then she came to a few days previous. He had mentioned the absence of her monthly cycle and was filled with joy at the prospect of becoming a father, but the next page brought her nothing but despondency, for he had spilt his emotions from his pen at being told it was not to be; he had been too hasty with his deduction.

"Oh, dear Lord, what have I done?" she gasped. She had told a falsehood to be rid of him from her rooms, but did not realise how her words would have affected him. "How am I to explain myself? How can I make amends?" It was now her turn to atone, and her penance would be great.

Elizabeth lay down on the bed and held the diary close to her as she re-read his letter once more, but eventually, her weakened body demanded rest and there, surrounded by the papers, letters, and her husband's diary, she reluctantly fell to sleep.

* * *

"Get out!" Darcy cried as the footman attempted to coax him in from the balcony.

"Sir, you will cause yourself an injury if you are not careful," Edward stated.

"Who gives a damn about whether I live or die?"

It was close to midnight when Darcy had taken to drinking after hours of not hearing from his wife. He was sure she would have come to him after reading the letter and his thoughts, but she had not. He stood in the doorway, as several servants gathered in the hall, but he could not take the intrusion into his life. "Get out, the lot of you!" he growled before throwing his empty tumbler at the wall opposite him. The pieces of glass showered the room and the servants scattered into the hallway.

Elizabeth, on hearing the commotion, woke up. "What on earth is happening? Have the French invaded?" She got up gingerly, for she was still half asleep and went to the door which led to the corridor; there she found several servants including Mrs Reynolds. "What is happening?"

"It is the master! He has gone off on one, and we can't calm him down," Edward stated. "He's in his cups and outside on the balcony; I can't get him in and fear he will fall over the balustrade."

"Everyone must leave; I will see to him," she stated firmly as she walked towards his door.

"He is intoxicated, you cannot go out there alone," Mrs Reynolds stated.

"I can, I know it is only me who can pacify him. I will be fine."

"Very well, ma'am, but you cannot go via his room. There is broken glass everywhere," Mrs Reynolds pleaded.

"Fine, I will go to him through my rooms," she stated. Knowing they shared a balcony, Mrs Reynolds ushered the staff back downstairs. "Hannah, will you please return downstairs with the others, I wish to have complete privacy with my husband." The maid reluctantly agreed, but not before she urged the mistress to put something warm on if she was to go outside in the winter night's air.

Elizabeth grabbed the thick counterpane from her bed and wrapped it around her shoulders. As she made her way out onto the balcony, she saw her husband slumped to the floor. His legs sprawled out in front of him and his back against the wall. His eyes were closed and his cheeks wet. "Fitzwilliam," she said softly as she approached. This startled Darcy, and he opened his eyes, wide, into her direction. No words were spoken as he gazed back at her, mute as not to antagonise her further if her temper was still heightened. "My poor, poor husband. How you must despise me for what I said to you." She came close, and without ceremony or approval, she sat down upon his stretched out legs and wrapped the counterpane around his back, and so cocooning them within its warmth. Darcy's arms automatically wrapped around his wife, where he pulled her into his embrace, before burying his head into the bountiful of hair which fell loose about her shoulders.

"I have been a fool, Elizabeth, a damn fool!" he confessed.

"I believe we both have been, but I have an excuse for my overreaction," she smiled timidly as he looked up at her in confusion.

"What excuse can you hold? That you have an imbecile for a husband?"

"No. I have a confession to make, and it will be your turn to be angry," she whispered as she took his hand and placed it over her stomach and held it there. "I think this little one is playing with my sentiments."

"But you said… your maid said…"

"She said what I asked her to say, in order for you to leave. I had no idea you thought that I was with child. I should have guessed you would have realised. I am so sorry that I put you through such heartache." She looked down at their joined hands placed over her womb and swallowed back her tears.

"You mean, you did not bleed?" he still sounded confused.

"No. Can you ever forgive me for such a cruel act?"

"I know I should be angry with you, but I cannot." A smile appeared after days of sorrow. "Are you sure?"

"No. It is still early days; I still may not be."

"Have you ever been this late before?" he asked forever hopeful.

"No, never. There are also other signs; my emotions are in turmoil, my breasts are tender and the past few days I have felt bilious. I so regret giving you the impression tha-"

"Shhh. It does not matter, for I am to be a father," his weak smile turned into a broad grin at the thought of being a parent.

"But, Fitzwilliam, you cannot forgive me just like that; I need to explain."

"We have plenty of time to discuss this, Elizabeth. I know I should be riled at your deceit, but I believe we have been through enough for the past few days. I want my wife back."

At that moment, Darcy shuddered. He had been out on the balcony in only his lawn shirt and breaches for some time, and the cold January air had finally penetrated the thick bedding wrapped around them both. "We must go in; it is far too cold out here." She went to stand, but Darcy would not let her go.

"Before we go in, Elizabeth, I must know. Do you love me?" He stared at her, eager for her answer, but also petrified if her response was not to his liking.

She looked at him shyly and smiled. "Of course I love you, Fitzwilliam. I have loved you for a long time, but I cannot fix a time or a place. It may have even started when we were children."

"But how can a young child love an adolescent?"

"I cared for you, why would a girl of six follow around a boy much older if she was not enamoured to some degree? I do not believe it was the love we have now, but I suppose I loved you in my own little way. In regards to the love a woman has for a man, I do not know, but certainly before your accident as that is when I realised how deeply I felt."

"And here we have been for months denying each other the privilege of understanding one another."

"Well, we know now and can move forward with our lives. That is if we do not catch a cold and die of a fever," she shivered. With that, Darcy, with great difficulty and an almost near accident, managed to stagger to his feet with his wife in his arms. "Not your rooms, it is too precarious with the broken glass; my room."

"Can I sleep with you tonight?" he asked, his eyes were heavy, and she knew he needed rest. Talk could come tomorrow.

"I thought we had come to that conclusion already." He smiled and placed a tender kiss upon her lips, but as he broke from her, his tears started to spill once more. "No! No! Please do not be upset, my darling. We can talk in the morning, but for now, we need to sleep."

As they lay in the mistresses bed, holding each other close, Darcy whispered his love for her once more. "I love you too, Fitzwilliam," she whispered just before they both drifted off into a tranquil sleep.


	37. Sobs of an Expectant Mother

-0-

Darcy's body jolted and his eyes flew open; he had just experienced a nightmare where Elizabeth had left Pemberley, had left him and taken their baby boy with her. The thought provoked his heart to pound, for if she had not bent to his whim and read what he had written, she could well have ended their lives together by demanding a divorce. _No! I would have refused, run after her and fought tooth and nail to persuade her to return; I would never allow what we have to fall by the wayside. What would have come of the child?_

There he was, lying on his back in her bed, gazing up at the feminine canopy; his present whereabouts soon soothed his anxieties over the 'what ifs' playing in his mind, for was she not lying next to him in tranquil repose? And had she not acquiesced to his wishes and read what he had to say, and believed it immediately?

A gentle sigh left his lips as he looked at her slumbering form; Darcy almost felt as he had done when he first awoke after their wedding night. He had watched her sleeping then, before possessing the idea of tormenting her with a feather from his pillow. How novel and untried those first days were, where his heart pounded in anticipation of not knowing how she would react to his touch. Now he felt the newness once more; not in the sense of his attentions on the unchartered territory of her flesh, but the new understanding he had… no, that they both had. The knowledge of how each other felt only encouraged an even more profound emotion to emerge from Darcy's heart. _How much more can one man love?_

He was saddened to think of the past few days; it all could have been avoided so easily. If only he had not hesitated in his own announcement and listened to his cousin, or had Mr Gardiner not easily swayed his opinion when they first met in London. The man evidently wished for Elizabeth to marry and did not want anything to inhibit a favourable decision. Then he pondered on the idea that if she had been told, she might well have refused him the courtesy of that first interview; he would have had no chance of meeting with her and therefore remain ignorant of the woman whom he now loved so dearly.

He shuddered at the prospect of living his life without his dear Elizabeth beside him, or worse, have a wife reluctantly chosen straight from the pickings of high society. Someone not dissimilar to Caroline Wickham; a union only formed as a necessity to begat an heir and nothing more. What if he had met her after he was already wed to another? Could he live his life knowing they were never to be together? Would he offer her something else instead? _No! I would never do that to her_ , he silently chastised himself, but it would have been a struggle to stay away from her door without some improprieties on his side.

The moonlight from the window flooded into the room, the effulgent glow shone across Elizabeth's body, making her almost angelic in his eyes. They had neglected to draw the drapes when they finally ventured in from the balcony, allowing the light from the fire and the moon to brighten the room. They had not even attempted intimacies, for both were too exhausted to contemplate physical activity. With only enough strength between them to undress before laying together in each other's hold, they settled down and fell into a much-needed sleep that neither had obtained in previous nights.

Now he was awake and in desperate need to reconnect. Should he dare to wake her? He could not help but stroke his fingers gently up her arm, from the elbow to her shoulder, then back down again; repeating this process until she stirred.

Elizabeth had been lying on her side, facing her husband, when the delicate sensations of his caress awoke her. She did not open her eyes but recognise Darcy's raised ardour due to his breathy state. In an attempt to be closer, she snuggled into him, then drew her leg across his own, and whispered his name.

Darcy turned slightly towards his wife before pulling her further into his embrace. Elizabeth's leg had shifted somewhat and was now anchored across his hip; this resulted in a heavenly sensation as his now zealous soldier stood to attention, proud to be poised at her wetness and eager to charge. "Elizabeth," he breathed. The single word paid reverence to his lover, whereupon she responded with a gentle coo. His hand swept down her spine, and she felt the tips of his fingers flex into the rotund cheek of her rump.

Without saying a word, she shifted even closer to him as she pressed her naked form against his own before he turned onto his back. Now she lay sprawled across his chest, her legs astride with her knees firmly on the bed; her cheek resting upon his chest as she languished in a dozy state.

Darcy wanted nothing more than to immerse himself into her soft wet cavity, for she had started to gyrate her hips into his loin instinctively. The pressure this delicious palpation was creating urged Darcy's baser instinct forward. "Oh, my love, let me make you mine again," he appealed.

Elizabeth, sleepy in her state, carefully lifted herself in order to place him at her entrance before slowly pushing down onto his length. She shuddered as he penetrated her warm niche; the slow impalement had Darcy almost bucking into her as Elizabeth lackadaisically manoeuvred in order to take him to the hilt.

Without much effort, she lay back down upon him, her cheek resting against his chest once more. There, she gently rocked her hips back and forth, and with the assistance of his hands upon her breech, Darcy aided her rhythmic jostle. A slow but steady incitement grew until both bodies trembled with the anticipation of that moment when all around them did not exist. Only they were each other's world; their forms combined into one with the ultimate pleasure that was about to take hold and burst forth. Elizabeth continued her delicate agitation until she felt the snap inside and her cranny cried out as her pleasures hit its acme.

Darcy could not stop the impulse when feeling his wife's reaction; he pushed into her once, twice, thrice more, as he rode out his own ne plus ultra, crying out her name as he emptied himself within her. "Lizzy! Oh, my Lizzy!"

His seed was no longer necessary, but he knew he would never be able to leave his wife be whilst she was with child. Even considering her confinement towards the end of her gravidity, he had come to realise it would be nye on impossible to abstain, not until there was a necessity to do so.

Elizabeth was still sprawled across him as they calmed. Quietness filled the room as their breathing returned to normal, but Darcy could tell his wife was upset. "What is the matter?" he urged.

"You… you called me Lizzy," she sobbed.

"I will refrain if you do not wish me to, but I thought…" he said, not realising the tears were those of happiness. Had his wife not told him before that no one had called her such anymore?

"No! No! I want you to call me Lizzy, for it is endearing to me."

She sniffed and went to rise from her position, but Darcy held her close. "My nose is running," she proclaimed.

"Use the corner of the bed sheet," was his simple answer.

"I cannot use the bed sheet. What will the maids think? To find snot everywhere." She was serious, but Darcy started to chuckle.

"Snot!? How many times did you read Wickham's letter? Has his crudeness rubbed off on you and blighted your manners?"

"I did not even get past the first few paragraphs. I read as much as I needed to, for he was most certainly reckless with his script. I hope you do not speak of me to others in that manner." Darcy was all for defending himself, but noticed the look on his wife's face; her brow cocked, and a smug look radiated from her features. He instantly knew she was teasing him, so refused to take the bait and silently shook his head instead. "I do know such words, for did I not give Bingley a well-deserved position in life when I struck him? I should have rewarded him with a bendlet sinister across his familial arms to prove his status; this would have suited him well," she chuckled.*

"I think you placed it straight across his face with your fist," he laughed. "His nose was surely bent and ran from right to left."

"Do you think he is permanently disfigured?"

"Yes, that will not fix back in its original place, nor will his teeth grow back, but Richard told me he is after some Waterloo teeth."

"What are they?"

"Dead soldier's teeth, plucked out of their mouths whilst they lay on the battlefields."

"Good, Lord! How can he have those in his mouth? Such a vain man!"

" _I am glad you did not bestow such aggression upon me. I quite like my features."_ At this tease, Elizabeth burst into tears. "Lizzy, do not upset yourself, I was only joking."

"But I was so evil towards you. How could I not trust you? For you have been nothing but kindness, and I knew you cared for me, really I did, deep down. But… but something just came over me; I could not help myself. Once I realised one thing, every other possibility became apparent. Your uncle's words, Neptune being outside the smoking rooms. Then, when I realised what that place was, I could not help my anger from escalating beyond rational thought, and the idea of you bedding all and sundry prevailed in my mind. I remembered I had never seen sight of Wickham's letters and only had your word that it had occurred. I should have trusted you. You are my world, Fitzwilliam, and I could have destroyed it all with my stupidity." She fell back onto his chest and wept. Darcy did not know what to say to quell her sorrows, so just held her, until he felt her body relax into repose once more.

* * *

Elizabeth woke to find half of her bed empty. Had she dreamt the past twelve hours? She found the papers on the floor alongside her husband's journal when her worries increased, for she had fallen to sleep whilst reading them. Looking across the floor, she noticed Darcy's shoes in the corner and breathed out her relief. Where had he gone? Surely he had not returned to his own apartment? It would have been dangerous to walk into that room barefooted.

She rose from the bed and on doing so, felt the delicious sensation between her legs, for her husband's essence that he had so pleasantly anointed her nether region with in the night were still apparent upon her body.

As she collected the articles from the floor, she felt a wave of nausea come over her. It was so profound that she had to rush to her dressing room in order to subject the chamberpot with her emissions. Although she had felt bilious the few days previous, she had never expelled; it was an act she did not entertain, but somehow this brought about a certain amount of comfort for did it not add to the evidence of her gravidity?

"Elizabeth? Where are you?" Darcy called out as he returned to her bedchambers.

"In here," she managed to reply before her head aimed into the chamberpot once more.

"Oh, darling! You are ill!" he cried out as he watched her heave from her kneeling position on the floor. She looked up at him and grinned. "Why are you so pleased to be ill?" It did not immediately register, then it clicked.

He rushed over to her and disregarded the fact of what she held in her hands. He kissed her most thoroughly, but Elizabeth pulled away. "Stop! Fitzwilliam, I have just vomited!"

"I do not care." His eyes were dancing with happiness, and the lack of restraint was apparent.

"Well, that just proves your love for me. If you can kiss me when I have just brought up the contents of my stomach," she laughed, but it was short-lived as she grabbed the jordan once more.

Darcy shifted and placed himself behind her; his arms came around and held her so tenderly as she continued. There they sat for a few minutes until Elizabeth's malady had receded. "Good, Lord! If I have to contend with this for weeks, if not months, it would be best if I bring my bed into here."

" _Or have a pot under the bed like everyone else."_

"That would be better," she smiled at the obvious remedy her husband had just stated. _"_ _It would also save me spoiling your precious rugs on the way, if I am not quick enough."_

"Maybe you should talk to another woman, Mrs Reynolds perhaps? Or Aunt Cecilia…. No aunt is probably not a good idea," he rebuked himself. "Mrs Reynolds may be able to assist with reducing the chances of it happening."

" _Reducing the chances of me spilling on the rugs?"_ she teased.

"Lizzy, you know what I meant; something that may reduce your sickness; a medicinal tea or something you can eat. The local apothecary might have a remedy."

"Say it again; call me Lizzy," she cooed from her position in his arms.

"Lizzy, my darling, Lizzy," he effused. "Now, let me get you back to bed so that we can talk in comfort."

At this, Elizabeth started to cry once more. "Hey! You need to calm yourself. You are not doing yourself or the baby any good if you are upset with everything I say."

"I know, but with you suggesting we should talk just reminded me of my stupidity. You must think me a simpleton to come up with such stupendous conclusions yesterday."

"Hush now," Darcy soothed, "Let me get you settled." Darcy escorted his wife back to the bed and crawled under the covers beside her.

"I know I explained in the letter, but do you wish to ask me anything?" Elizabeth looked at her knotted fingers, contemplating on whether to ask. "We need to be honest; there is obviously something on your mind."

"I just wondered why it took you so long to tell me how you felt. It is not as if we did not have privacy."

"I was petrified of your differing sentiments, darling. It was quite early in the marriage when I realised, the morning after our first night together, in fact. I did not think you felt the same and could not cope with you telling me that the feelings I was experiencing were not reciprocated. I did not wish to live in an unequal marriage, so chose ignorance instead, hoping to remain in my naive state of bliss. Richard urged me to talk with you, and I did heed his call, but it was only moments before my cowardliness set in once more. As time went on, it became more and more difficult to reveal myself. I was going to declare my love for you on the morning of my accident, but things took a turn."

"I did wonder what you were going to tell me. The note said you wished to discuss something that was important to the felicity of our marriage, but you were in no fit state afterwards, then our argument over the horse. After that, I did not think on what you had mentioned in your missive. I knew I loved you by then, but you taking your sister's words over mine led me to believe you did not care for me in that way, so I tried to push my feelings aside. My attempts were futile, for within a short time your attentions gave battle to the guard around my heart, and I was hopefully and completely in love with you again. I did not wish to say how I felt, as I had been brought up to believe that one should stay quiet on these sorts of things until the man declared himself."

"Did your father tell you this?"

"Yes. He said that no lady should be so forward, not before the gentleman declared he felt the same way. I could see his point; he did not wish for a daughter to act like those ladies you see in town. Father had to bare women fawning all over him before he married my mother. He had already turned forty and was late in inheriting Longbourn, so decided to take in a season to see if he could beget a wife, but all he found were simpering harpies who did nothing but agree with whatever he said. If the sky was pink and the grass blue, they would have accepted his claim.

"Even though Papa was not rich in comparison to some, he had hoped to maybe meet with a young widow or someone slightly older who did not mind a lower income. He was harassed, however, by some of the women who were being threatened with spinsterhood; those were worse than the debutants, for their desperation urged them forward in their droves. Then, when he least expected it, he met my mother."

"How did that come about?"

"She was the daughter of an attorney in Meryton, and had just come out of her father's establishment as my father was entering. Papa once explained to me that the woman he was destined for fell into his arms; but I understand from talk around the village that papa had walked straight into her so violently that he had to grab her about the waist to stop them both from falling." She laughed at the tale she had heard. "Mother swatted him with her fan at the impropriety of their new predicament, for he was holding her rather close to him. This, of course, piqued my father's interest and from then on he would not let her be until she relented to become his wife.

"They only had a short while together, before…" Here Elizabeth stopped. She did not wish to think upon the circumstances of her mother's death, for had it not been for her, she would still have been alive.

Darcy could tell her mood had taken a turn. "Anything else you wish to talk about from my letter or the diary?"

"Yes. You are one clod, Fitzwilliam Darcy!" his eyes shot open. "How could you run back to the comfort of your townhouse on hearing I was nearby?"

"I…I…" at least he had the sense to blush. "It was quite doltish of me to run. Cowardly, in fact."

"If only you had stayed… Although, father died on the day you left, so the timing would not have been good after all. I forgive you for being a milksop, even though I doubt you are one now, for how could one act as my knight in shining armour when faced with Mr Bingley. I should have known how you felt about me, for you were prepared to put your life in jeopardy for my honour."

"But I did not think of honour when I went to the smoking rooms. I disrespected you as my wife in even contemplating on entering that building, even if I did not go there for the purpose on which it existed. I should have thought before I acted."

"Oh, yes. The trollop." Elizabeth was quiet for a moment. "Fitzwilliam, what was it you wanted to buy Richard?"

Darcy cringed at her question, but openness was his new motto so divulged the details. "It was a piece of furniture… a chair."

"A Chair? What sort of chair?"

"Erm… for conjugal relations… Richard had gone on about it for quite some time, and I thought it would be rather a good wedding gift. For obvious reasons, it could not be the main one, but a secret gift from one cousin to another…. But, Lizzy, when I was at the furniture makers, I got rather over enthusiastic." Elizabeth frowned. "In my zealous state, I ordered a second."

"For us?!" Elizabeth's eyes widened in shock. The thought of the gilded gold and red guest room came to mind and Elizabeth had to stifle a giggle.

"I will get rid of it when it arrives. It was thoughtless of me even to consider you would care to use such a contraption, by reason of where the concept came from." His words came quick, hoping to give instant relief to his wife.

"No, Fitzwilliam, I would like to see it, and maybe even try it?" she said with a wicked glint in her eyes. _"_ _It seems I was too hasty to change the guest room, for we could have placed it amongst the garishness of a French brothel and abscond to the guest wing when we were in need of something a little more thrilling than the marital bed… And I believe you should close your mouth, before you catch flies."_

* * *

AN

*(heraldry) a thin diagonal slash, extending from the sinister chief of an escutcheon to the dexter base (running from the viewer's top right to bottom left) A supposed mark of bastardy.

The chair mentioned will come up again in later chapters, for a heads up, it's a tantra chair. I know this will be an anachronism, but I'm taking artistic licence on this and believe they may have been around in a bespoke manner, lol


	38. The Viscount's Scheming

**-0-**

 **A week or so later** **…**

"Where is Mr Darcy, Reynolds?" the Viscount asked as he came into the vestibule.

"The master and mistress are both upstairs in their chambers, My Lord. They have been rising quite late in the mornings for this past week or so," the housekeeper replied as she beckoned Edward to come forward to take Richard's outer apparel.

"Oh! So, they have finally come to their senses and started talking again." Richard was pleased for the couple, but he had serious matters to discuss with his cousin. "I need to see Darcy as a matter of great importance, so would you be so kind as to inform him I am here?"

"Certainly, sir. I will see that he is informed immediately. Would you care for some tea or coffee brought to you in the parlour?"

"I think I will go and wait in his study, and tea would be lovely. Actually, could I have a hot toddy with a good dash of brandy in it, to ward off the cold instead," he shivered as he removed his greatcoat and gloves before handing them to the footman. "Where is Mr Stoker? I have not seen him around for a while now."

"Oh, he is not well, sir. Has been fighting painful joints for many years; things are getting too much for him now. Mr Darcy has allowed him to retire at the end of the month with a handsome annuity, and will take up residence in one of the smaller tenants cottages close to Lambton."

"Darcy is a good ol' chap; he treats his staff with such care. I doubt many men would rehouse their servants at his own expense, but I suppose Mr Stoker has been here for a long time."

"Yes, he was here even before the current master's father. I remember him saying that Alexander Darcy, Mr Darcy's grandfather, employed him around 1770, so that would make him in service for well over forty years."

"My word! He has served three masters in his time, that is an achievement. So, who is replacing him?"

"Mr Gladstone is travelling up from London," Mrs Reynolds blushed.

"Ah! Good, old Gladstone. I am sure he will be well settled here." Richard did not miss the housekeeper's flushed cheeks and knew that Mrs Reynolds had a soft spot for the town butler. Mr Gladstone had spent a few months at Pemberley a few years previous when Mr Stoker had to travel to Scotland to aid a sick relative. During that time a bond had formed between the stand-in butler and the housekeeper, but it was not to last, as the town based servant had to return to his regular duties before the summer was out. Richard did not know their exact ages, but believed Mrs Reynolds was in her fifth decade and the butler only a couple of years older. They would do well together, if only Darcy allowed his staff to marry and stay employed, but he knew it could cause unsettlement in the household if they were ever to have an argument.

"Yes, sir. I will go fetch your refreshment," she babbled. Noticing the Viscount's slight smirk as he came to realise the reason for her flustered state made her only the more embarrassed.

"Don't forget the tipple," Richard yelled out before Mrs Reynolds quickly disappeared down the stairs.

A quarter of an hour later, a somewhat dishevelled Darcy entered his study. He had only half dressed in his lawn shirt and breaches; his boots pushed on haphazardly and his complexion quite flushed. "What do you want, Richard?" he asked with an annoyance of having been disturbed.

"What is that smell?" Richard sniffed the air several times. "It's you!"

"What?" Darcy stiffened thinking that the essence of their lovemaking could be detected, even though he quickly cleaned himself before dressing.

"Lavender? With a hint of rose?" Darcy relaxed.

"It was in the bathwater, last night, and I got my hair wet!" Richard grinned at his cousin's confession of sharing a bath with his wife. "I'm busy, Richard, what do you want?!"

"Sorry for ripping you out of your wife's arms. I assume you and Elizabeth have worked things out?"

Darcy's expression proved Richard's assumption was correct, for a glorious smile grew before displaying a rather cheeky set of dimples. "Yes, and better still, we now have no secrets between us anymore."

"Thank the Lord for small mercies. I assume with that grin that she feels the same?"

"Yes. Although, it took quite an argument for it to come about. I say argument, it was rather a one-sided tirade of abuse and I was on the receiving end."

"Well, that's women for you. At least you got it sorted."

"Yes, and you disturbed my making it up to her."

"For a week plus? You must have atoned adequately by now."

"What do you want, Richard?"

"We have a problem. Bingley."

"Bingley?! What has that reprobate done now? Not getting another girl into trouble. There is already talk of him being the father of Widow Sotheby's child."

"Yes. I spotted the nanny out with the tot earlier last summer. He was sitting up in the pram looking at all the ducks on the Serpentine; there is a canny resemblance to Bingley. You cannot miss, even from a distance, that bairn's hair; he's positively *ginger-hackled."

"I did hear talk a couple of years ago; some of the members at Whites had commented on him sniffing around the lady and that she was shamefully with child. I wanted not to believe it; even if he were eager to be away from the area around the time she would have discovered her condition. No doubt Widow Sotheby had attempted to persuade him to do the honourable thing and marry her. Bingley left and travelled to Yorkshire for several months, and would not return until the woman had given birth to the boy. I understand that the child resembles Bingley in more ways than one, but I still denied the truth. But now, I cannot disbelieve anything that is said about him, including siring a bastard and abandoning the woman to the whiplashing tongues of society." he sighed. "So, what news do you have?"

"I took advantage of having him followed day and night after you told me of his behaviour here. I knew we all agreed to be vigilant within the family, but something deep inside of me was niggling away as soon as you told me, so I sent a message to town that day to have someone shadow him."

"And?"

"The men were only on his tale for a couple of days, before they followed him to Mrs MacFaden's School for Girls in Yorkshire. They sent me a message immediately, and I received it the following day. Luckily, Bingley had gone to Georgiana's school, whilst she was here. I am not sure what he expected to find there during the Christmas holidays as all the girls go home for the festivities."

"Do you suppose he was after Georgie? She is all but sixteen?"

"Yes, I doubt her age would make much difference to him. In fact, it would be to his benefit as she is so gullible. You know him, Darcy, he does not seduce anyone with the intention of marrying a compromised maiden, look at how he treated Widow Sotheby. Plus, you have heard him before, he does not care to stay in any particular place for long and is happy enough to remove himself from an area once he is bored. That to me cries out the lack of seriousness in his attitude towards the fairer sex; he goes from here to there without a care in the world, breaking hearts and probably impregnating several women along the way."

"I visited before Georgiana returned to school, with the view of finding out what had occurred, but did this under the guise of needing to know how she was handling the situation of being away from home. The school's mistress volunteered information when I arrived and said that Bingley had come to speak with Georgie. Luckily, they took one look at his face and did not even acknowledge her attendance as a pupil. He certainly does not look like an acquaintance any young gentlewoman of sixteen would have; he looks more like a prizefighter who has paid the consequence of going ten rounds at the boxing saloon in Bond Street."

"We must tell my sister and warn her of his conduct. I am sure she would be quite content in his company if we did not truly know his character; she is too naive to not be persuaded by his charms."

"I have already done that, plus I have told the school to be careful who they let in and handed over a list of welcomed visitors. Once Georgiana goes back at the end of the week, they will ensure no one gets to see her that is not on the list."

"What exactly did you say to Georgiana? Did you mention Bingley's behaviour towards Elizabeth?"

"I had to Darcy. I explained that he was a cad and a rake and did not care whether the lady was of genteel breeding or a serving wench in a tavern, but she wanted to know how I knew and demanded examples; I am sure she did not wish to think ill of the man. I had to mention his behaviour with your wife as well as other women, one of which bore his son. Then she still did not believe me so had to explain that Elizabeth had taken action at his obnoxious behaviour and his disfigured face being the result."

"Was she upset?"

"No, she laughed. I must admit that on talking about it, it did sound quite amusing, but I know it was not so at the time."

"No, it was not. So, what is to be done now? I cannot have Bingley traipsing about the country attempting revenge by molesting my sister!"

"Do not worry. There are plenty of ships Bingley can be discretely placed upon that are destined for the Americas. I paid for a one-way passage before I instructed some men to do my bidding. They are experts at bamboozling gentlemen of their purses and jumped at the chance for a hundred a piece."

"You employed criminals?!"

"Darcy, they are good at what they do, which is what I want them to do. I instructed them to entice him to join them at a local tavern before going to a brothel. Then, when travelling to the establishment, they are to get him drunk from a hip flask of brandy laced with an opiate. Once the lights are out, they are to take him aboard the ship. The only thing he will know when he wakes up is that he has been hoodwinked by some strangers he recently met. The captain will turn a blind eye to all the capers that it will involve, and he will not take Bingley's nonsense about it being a mistake as he will be dressed in the uniform of a junior petty officer.

"I am sure when he wakes up in the middle of the ocean with nothing on him but his naval attire and some forged documentation, he will have difficulty returning to England. He will have no money, no true documentation and once the ship docks, he will be under the power of his commanding officer, whom coincidentally is an old friend.

"His sodden clothes will be thrown onto the banks of the River Thames with several documents and trinkets in the pockets to establish who they belong to. I may even forge a suicide note; then everyone will think he has drowned himself because of his disfigurement."

"You cannot do that!"

"Why ever not? I know he was your friend, but you cannot be concerned about him now. You were all for killing him in a duel at one point. This way he will have to live an impoverished existence mimicking hell and be none of our concern. We may even be blessed with him being killed in the line of duty."

"But what if he writes back home? He is sure to write to his attorney and family."

"Who will believe him? By then his clothes would have been discovered along the river; the suicide note will have persuaded everyone of his death, so they will think the man is nothing but a scheming opportunist and ignore the blighter."

"And what if they do not? Or his letter arrives before he is announced dead?"

"Ships will not sail on a daily basis to that part of the world, and he has to get there first, which could take over a month. Then, he will have no opportunity to send the missive back, as he will be at his commander's beck and call. I have asked Captain Forbes to keep him busy and not let him stray away from the encampment, or to keep him aboard the ship."

"Is Forbes not related to The Sotheby's?"

"Ha! You spotted my deliberate ploy. He is the widow's cousin and took very keenly to my scheme; revenge on behalf of the family was a glorious enticement he could not refuse. He does not know Bingley by sight, so there is no chance of him being called out. Forbes will certainly not allow any correspondence through, as he has to agree on each one. If Bingley does manage to post a letter by other means, then there is another month on top before the ship docks in England. We are looking at two months, minimum.

"I am sure that even without a body, the death will be quickly deemed as suicide and as he has no legitimate offspring, the money will be divided between Hurst and Wickham. Do you think they will query such a claim after the courts have proclaimed him dead and they each receive fifty thousand pounds? They will be upset at the scandal produced by his suicide, and any attempts Bingley will make to persuade them he is still alive will be treated as an unsavoury joke by some unknown swindler."

"I cannot believe you have conjured this up. You will probably be hung if it were discovered."

"It will not be. Besides, it has already happened. The scallywag was placed on the ship two nights ago, and the clothes were discovered yesterday morning. I must admit that writing his note was far easier than I had expected. His hand was easy to mimic, and a few ink blotches here and there made it rather authentic."

"What?!" Darcy shouted as he shot to his feet, but was quickly silenced when Elizabeth came into the parlour.

"I heard everything from outside; I had my ear to the door."

"Elizabeth!" Darcy gasped. "I had no idea!"

"I am not upset with Richard's actions, Fitzwilliam. Although it would have been better had he told us before it happened."

"But it is against the law!"

"Do you wish him to get his claws into your sister? Have him compromise her and then be forced to marry?"

"I will not force her to do anything! I would not want that man as a brother."

"But what if she ends up pregnant?"

"Then… Then… I do not know! Pay someone to take her for his wife?" Darcy huffed and slumped down into the chair; Elizabeth knelt at his feet and prized his hands away from his face so that she could talk to him calmly.

"You cannot expect her to be scandalised in such a way. You know if he had found her and things had happened over Christmas, we could not pass the baby off as our own."

Richard frowned, then it dawned on him. "You are with child?"

"Yes, I believe so. We did not wish to tell anyone so early as I am not entirely sure; not until the quickening."

"Then all the more for getting that man away. Darcy, you do not have to do anything. The fact that the man committed suicide-"

"But he did not!" Darcy interrupted.

"In the eyes of the world, he did. I doubt anyone will go to any lengths to pay him respect. There will be no body to bury and doubt Hurst or Wickham will take time out to organise a memorial service, not when he had disgraced the family with the sin of his self-imposed demise. You will not need to travel to London and if you are asked, just tell them that you cannot as Elizabeth is not well enough to travel."

"But I am."

"They do not know that… Maybe I should not have said anything and let you remain in ignorance, but I did not wish for you to feel sorry for the bugger. You need to keep this to yourself. Even when you finally see Wickham, you cannot let it be known as he will tell his wife. The fewer people who are aware, the better."

"I suppose we do not have much choice now that it is done."

* * *

 **In the middle of the Atlantic**

"What in the darn nation is going on?" Bingley grumbled as he woke up in darkness. He stood, trying to see around him, but could not discern anything until his eyes had adjusted to the dim light that was beaming in from above. Then he noticed the barrels depicting the word 'gunpowder' painted on the side. _"_ _Why has the tavern got gunpowder?"_ he mused aloud. Finding his way to the ladder, he climbed each rung with much care, for his head was swimming to the point of not being able to keep his balance. But when he reached the top and came into the light, he discovered he was not in the cellars of the local tavern, but aboard a warship, destined for god knows where. "What the blazes!" he cried out as he stood on the deck, looking at the horizon, which did not afford the view of any mainland. He turned a full three-sixty, but still nothing.

"Enough of that boy, get to work!" the captain shouted from the upper deck.

"Work? I do not work, sir, I am a gentleman of leisure!" he responded with much chagrin. Bingley had yet to realise what he was wearing, not until the captain grabbed a nearby bucket of seawater and threw it over his head from a great height, before throwing the container down at Bingley's feet.

"I want you to mop the decks, when done you can do it again until nightfall!" he commanded.

It was only after looking down at his wet clothes, that Bingley noticed his uniform. Then it dawned on him; he had been hornswoggled by those blasted men in the tavern.

"Fuck!"

* * *

From 1811 Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue:

GINGER-PATED, or GINGER-HACKLED. Red-haired: a term borrowed from the cockpit, where red cocks are called gingers


	39. To Rotherham

**28th January 1812**

It was a bitterly cold morning when the Darcy carriage commenced its journey from Pemberley to Rotherham, with a set of four pulling the magnificent coach at a steady trot. Knowing that the distance was no more than five and twenty miles, Darcy anticipated they would arrive at their destination no later than mid-afternoon.

It had been agreed upon that he and Elizabeth would arrive two days before his cousin's wedding; allowing the following day for Darcy and Blakeney to travel in order to collect Georgiana from school and return her on their way back to Pemberley after the wedding. The returning excursion would be too much to make in one day, so Darcy arranged for him and his wife to take lodgings at one of the better hotels in the area before completing their final leg of the trip.

"Are you cold, my love?" Darcy asked on perceiving his wife's shiver. They had just taken their places in the forward facing seat of the vehicle, hoping that body warmth would aid their comfort whilst travelling in the harsh wintry conditions. "There is another blanket in the trunk under the seat if you wish for me to retrieve it."

"I am only a little chilled, so do not need another layer. _I will be fine once it warms up in here,_ _for I do believe the number of hot bricks you requested could heat the whole interior of Hampton Court,_ _"_ she laughed as she spied the rather imposing ornate brass carriage warmer at their feet. _"_ _Do you suppose it will last until we return home on Tuesday?"_

Darcy delighted in his wife's humour, but he was only being practical. "Do you think that if I only considered placing the normal vessel at your feet, you would be so cheerful as to tease my concern for your's and our little one's wellbeing?"

"I would be unable to say a word; no doubt my teeth would be chattering away, ten to the dozen."

"But then, I would have no option than to warm you up in another way; the only other way I know how, Mrs Darcy," he said as he leaned in and kissed her tenderly. "But I will refrain, for it would not do to see you arrive at Clifton Manor completely dishevelled." He stated this with an affirmation that he would not take advantage of their privacy within the carriage, but this did not stop his hand from resting on her thigh, under the blanket. His fingers making circular patterns on her skin was almost too much for Elizabeth to bear.

"Behave, Fitzwilliam. You cannot be in need already."

"I am always in need, Lizzy," he said as he kissed her temple, then the dip below her ear.

The term of endearment was still new to Elizabeth, and on hearing it outside of their private bedchambers had an even more significant impact; the sound of his low throaty voice as he allowed the syllables of her name to flow from his lips made her heart skip a beat. She glanced up at her husband from his left and perceived the genuine affection radiating down, now allowing the love that had been there since before their wedding day to bathe her in tranquil serenity. She closed her eyes and let out a content sigh.

Until their misunderstanding a fortnight past, she had clung to the idea that what they had was more than what had been spoken of, but she would never wholly allow herself to believe Darcy felt anything other than a gentle tenderness towards her. Now she knew the truth, she could not misinterpret such a profound devotion, for was he not the quintessence of the deepest of love? This, however, did not stop her from vivacious merrymaking at the expense of her husband and took delight in tormenting his need for her. "You are aware that we cannot share a bed whilst residing at Clifton Manor," she teased, but Elizabeth managed the statement with enough deliberate approach that Darcy did not think it a falsehood.

"What?! This cannot be! How am I to cope?"

"But they have put us in separate rooms and some distance from each other."

"That cannot be right. They know we have not been married long and I cannot sleep without you in my bed."

"They do not know that. I am sure the older generation thinks nothing of such arrangements."

"What if I sneak to your rooms in the night and make sure we are quiet?"

"Quiet? Mr Darcy, do you realise how loud you can be?"

"I cannot be _that_ loud, surely?"

"You are positively clamorous. I am only thankful that Georgiana is a very deep sleeper, and that you put all the guests in the guest wing over the Christmas holidays, for you surely would have kept half the house awake all night long with your grunts and groans." Darcy grinned. "I, myself, appreciate your fervent rumblings and would not wish for you to stay mute during those times."

"I must agree that your petite mewls and sighs can almost undo me to the point of morphing into some wild beast demanding satisfaction, but it would not do to be so intense with you, especially now."

"Now?"

"I do not care to give our child a headache," he laughed. "But in all seriousness, I did go and see Dr Evans last week as I had a few questions."

"Fitzwilliam! I have not even seen the doctor yet. Does he know of our secret?"

"No, I asked a theoretical question… for the future."

"And?"

"He said we could continue, but I must not be so vigorous with your body and not put my weight on you if I am on top."

" _So, I am to take riding lessons and keep to a trot rather than a gallop?"_

"I thought you knew how to ride, even though you do not partake in the sport."

"Husband, I mean to mount a certain dark, smouldering stallion and ride him astride."

"You wish to take out Neptune?"

"No! Good Lord! Are you being deliberately obtuse?" He grinned. "So you understand what I am about?"

"Yes, we can start your riding lessons tonight."

"But we cannot; not until we return to Pemberley, for you are banned from my bed."

"Are you really sure that is the arrangement?"

"Did you not understand the situation when I read Sir Thomas' letter the other day? He sent word of the final arrangements, which included our sleeping apartments. I am to be given rooms near Miss Rebecca's on the third floor, and you are in an apartment on the floor below."

"Yes, no, I must have missed that part. Was I not paying attention? Maybe I was thinking of other things?" he stated with an attempt at innocence, but Elizabeth knew his direction of thought was once again heading towards the amorous.

"Fitzwilliam George Darcy! You have nothing on your mind but the state of our marriage bed."

"It does get into rather a state. The sheets have to be changed daily now," he grinned.

"That is your fault, more than mine. Your spendings; not mine."

"You produce just as much… juice as I," he countered.

"I do not!"

"I know you do, Lizzy, do not deny you are well oiled when I take you."

"If I am, it is only because of you, so it is still your fault! So, what were you thinking when I was attempting to apprise you with this tad of information you took such delight in not absorbing?"

"I was thinking about your thighs."

"And what about my thighs?" she cocked her brow as she challenged him.

"Just how soft and smooth they feel…" he stopped as the discussion was now flooding his mind with images of his wife's naked thighs wrapped around his waist. "Lizzy, can we change the subject?"

"Why?"

"Because it is provoking those thoughts again."

"Very well, Fitz."

"Fitz?" he grimaced; he did not like that term one jot.

"You called me Lizzy, so can I not call you Fitz?"

"If you desire to shorten it for a pet name, I would take no objection to Will."

"No, Will only reminds me of our argument." Darcy looked confused. "Your father's Will. What about Billy?" Darcy pouted. "Bill?" Darcy shook his head. "William?"

"I think I can live with that, Mrs Darcy."

"Oh, I am no longer your Lizzy?" she chuckled.

"No, you are now Mrs Darcy until you relent and that does not appear to be until we return home."

"Relent? Good job we have an adjoining suite at Clifton Manor then, or this relenting will have to wait several days, and I know you will be a bear with a sore head by the time we arrive home."

"But you said… Lizzy, are you telling me you were fibbing all along?"

"Of course. Do you think I would stay away from you for one night, let alone three?"

"You are my heaven, Lizzy. I adore you."

"I adore you too, _Billy,_ " she giggled as she pulled him into a passionate kiss.

* * *

They arrived at Clifton Manor just before two and were greeted by the Davenports; Richard had arrived that morning and stood beside his betrothed when they had come out into the vestibule to meet their guests. "I hope the journey was not too uncomfortable for you, Mr and Mrs Darcy? The private roads leading into Rotherham are not the best. I have tried to encourage their improvement, but the local squires who own the turnpikes along the route do not care to pay for the new construction methods that everyone is talking about. Resurfacing with stone would go a long way to making life so much more comfortable, but they will not budge, and it will only be a matter of time before some poor soul will be injured and they are made to account for the poor road conditions."

"It was not too taxing. We slowed down considerably the last part of the journey."

"At least you are here," Sir Thomas said, "that is what counts."

"It would not do if he were not; Darcy is my best man," Richard said with a snort.

"Do you think I would miss the day you got hitched, Richard? You have spent far too much of your life being carefree about the direction you were heading in. The only thing that was for certain was your inheritance. At least now you have to think about another before you act."

"And I will not let him go off on his gallivants without a fight," Rebecca stated.

"You will play fisticuffs with me, Beckie?" Richard's eyes lit up at the thought of wrestling with his new wife in a playful manner.

"I will tie you to whatever heavy furniture is close by and not let you leave." At this, both Darcy and Elizabeth laughed. Had she not done just that, when Darcy was anticipating a duel?

"I look forward to seeing you attempt such a feat, although there will be no gallivanting for me now that I will be-"

"Under the thumb?" Darcy chuckled.

"I will be a most considerable husband and my wife will not need to use her thumbs to bid me into submission. I will do it gladly." Richard pulled Rebecca's hand to his lips and placed a chaste kiss upon it; the lady sighed thinking it all so romantic.

* * *

The new arrivals were escorted up to their rooms in the guest wing; Rebecca followed Elizabeth and Richard accompanied Darcy as they continued their discussions. The hosts made their way back into the parlour where tea would be served within the hour once the guests had settled.

"The chair arrived at Darley House yesterday. I must say it looks even better than the whore's," Richard stated as they entered Darcy's temporary bedchambers and took to laying down on the bed. Darcy looked over at him and rolled his eyes at the nonchalant manner in which his cousin was acting; he was behaving as though he owned the place.

"In what sense?"

"It is padded and upholstered in leather. Was not Miss Martin's plain wood with several throws?"

"Yes, it was, but the furniture maker told me that she requested it that way, due to the high volume of usage it would receive. The throws can be washed. I thought having them upholstered would be more comfortable and can be wiped down if needed."

"Good Lord, I did not think of that. Must have been used by nearly all the gentry within a fifty-mile radius. I wonder if Sir Thomas has been a patron there?" he chuckled.

"I doubt it. Sir Thomas looks well over his sixth decade, and Miss Martin was in her twenties when we first participated in her services, so cannot have reached forty yet."

"Father has used her, and he is nearly sixty. Although, he is a randy bugger. Did you know that mother has allowed him back into her bed on a regular basis, but he has had to give up his mistress and any dealings with the brothels. One whiff of _'_ _Eau de Trollop'_ and he is out on his ear again."

"She is one forgiving woman; I admire her for her clemency. I doubt Elizabeth would ever forgive me, even the once."

"Would you be inclined to deviate from your marriage bed?"

"No!" Darcy boomed. "I cannot disrespect her, you know I love her dearly and could never even think about taking another. She does me very well in that regard and cannot complain. To lay with the one you love is much more rewarding than relieving oneself with a paid quim."

"I hope it is more than what I have had up to now. Even with Lady Bosworth, it felt like any other woman I have laid with, including the whores. I thought I loved her then, but should have realised that the impact of our union was not dissimilar to my experience at the brothel, only she just had hair."

"Hair?" Darcy looked puzzled.

"Yes. Most ladies at brothels shave themselves, did you not realise that?"

"No. Whatever for?"

"To ward off unwelcome wildlife," Richard laughed. "I must admit that some took to wearing merkins, but they were not fooling anyone. I was inclined to tug them off when I saw one, hoping not to see any sores under its guise."

"So how long have you gone without now, Richard?"

"Not since the summer, I think. I did anticipate going to Miss Martin but then did not. After which, I was betrothed, and it did not seem right to partake."

"I hope you will be faithful."

"Of course I will. I have seen what it has done to my parent's marriage; I will not be like my father after I am wed. I just hope that Beckie is not prudish in her attitude towards intimacies."

"I do not think she will be, not after Elizabeth has a talk with her."

"What do you mean? Her mother will discuss matters with her, surely."

"I think that task has been laid at my wife's door. When Sir Thomas wrote to us last week, there was also a personal letter from his wife to mine. Elizabeth was asked if she would do the duty of having the talk. I think Lady Davenport feels it would be easier coming from a woman of similar age, and I believe she will be rather embarrassed discussing matters with her only child."

"Beckie does say their marriage lacks any affection; maybe her mother is not the best person to elaborate on the intimacies of two people who love each other. She has probably been told herself to lay there and bear it, or _think of England_."

* * *

Darcy had already left to collect Georgiana the following day when Elizabeth approached Rebecca, who was still in her rooms. Her mother had made herself busy, and Richard had been made to take up residence in the local inn until after the wedding, as he was not permitted to stay in the same house as his betrothed. "Rebecca, I wish to discuss with you something that I feel will benefit you before you become a wife."

"Oh, is this the talk mother is supposed to give me?" Rebecca blushed.

"Yes. Do you feel comfortable talking to me instead?"

"I do. I think both mother and I will be too abashed to talk and it will end up being a conversation about nothing."

They sat on the divan by the windows in the small sitting room to one side of her bedchambers. "Firstly, do you know anything?" Elizabeth asked. She had anticipated that at least Rebecca knew what a man's anatomy looked like, but had brought with her a book on famous artists and a translation of _The School of Venus_ in case she did not.

"Not entirely. I have imagined what they would look like from what I have seen of animals. Father owns quite a few studs, and I have been witness to their…. mounting of the mares."

At this, Elizabeth pulled out one of the books and went to the page with the marker. There she showed Rebecca a very detailed picture of a man's anatomy. "This is The Vitruvian Man by Leonardo da Vinci."

"Oh!" Rebecca gasped as she noticed the extra appendage at his loin. "Is that what… stiffens?"

"You know that a man stiffens?"

"Richard told me," she blushed. "He was being rather improper and asked me if I could feel him when he kissed me last week."

"So you have passionately kissed each other?" Why it surprised Elizabeth, she did not know. Was her cousin not as virile as her husband? She had undoubtedly overheard recent discussions between the two men to know that Richard was just as passionate as Darcy.

"Yes, and he was rather turgid, and I could feel it on my belly, and it made me rather hot, and I nearly fainted."

"So it affected you. Do you know what he will do with it?"

"Well, I have seen the horses. It is placed into …. Lawks! This is so embarrassing," she sighed.

"Let me explain then, and you can listen. I only asked so not to flood your senses with too much information, but I will start slowly, and you may stop me when you need a moment to comprehend."

There, the ladies spent a full hour discussing details of what is to be expected. From the gentle caresses to the consummation of their marriage. With each piece of detail, Rebecca's countenance began to waver until she had to stop Elizabeth with the mention of blood.

"Will it hurt?"

"Only a little, but if your husband is gentle, this will be minimal and only for a minute or so."

"Maybe we should steal some ice from the ice house first."

"Rebecca!" Elizabeth laughed. "It is not that bad. I had been led to believe that it would be excruciating, but it was only a sharp pinch at most," she stated as she pinched her companion's arm and gave it a sharp tug.

"Ouch!"

"Exactly, that is what you are likely to say when he does enter you. Do not be so worried, for if it were that painful, women would warn their maiden friends to remain spinsters."

"I suppose. I am more worried about being unclothed. Richard has already indicated he cannot wait to get me naked and into his bed, he wants me trembling under his gaze and whimpering at his touch… That is exactly what he said!"

"And you probably will be, but not because you are scared, but because he will affect you in such a way, that your body will react in that manner. Contrary to popular belief, women do not just have to lay there and allow their husbands to take what they want. A woman can also participate and receive pleasure as well as give it."

"How was your own wedding night? Did you take your own advice?"

"No, I did not know then what I know now. My aunt only told me some, but not all. What little she did say allowed me to ponder endlessly and I ended up believing that the defloration of my maidenhead would be something quite macabre. I got drunk before my husband came to me and we and to wait a few hours before we could continue." Rebecca gasped at this information. "But it is not macabre. There was just a tinge of pink to the bedding and my person, so you will not bleed to death.

"Now, do you know about fellatio and cunnilingus?" Rebecca frowned, indicating she did not.

Elizabeth knew this would be quite a lengthy discussion, but at least the men were out of the way and had the remainder of the afternoon to calm down a very agitated bride-to-be.


	40. The Viscount's Bride

AN - Sorry for delay in this chapter, been rather busy with work.

* * *

Richard had obtained a special licence from the Doctors Commons in London, permitting the couple to marry from Clifton Manor that afternoon, followed by a light wedding breakfast. He had hoped to be on the road, heading to Darley House, before it was too late to make the distance and have to contend with the worst of situations and spend his wedding night under his father-in-law's roof. As it was, the time of year would have them travel in darkness, but at least Blakeney would be accompanying them on their journey; the trusty guard would be no match for any highwayman who would attempt to seize the vehicle along the darkened lanes between Rotherham and Matlock. There was a reason Darcy had employed such a henchman as he, for his quick reflexes and sharp aim would render any bandit procumbent, face down in the dirt, with a bullet sunk deep into his flesh.

Darcy was expected at the Rose and Crown Inn by ten o'clock. He was hoping that Richard's rooms were not in tumult as the occupant would no doubt be fretting and cursing the air with building anxiety. As he entered, he was surprised to see his cousin asleep in the chair with a small jewellery box held in his hand.

"Wake up, Richard!" Darcy bellowed with a tad of self-satisfaction. At the sudden sound, Richard sprung up from his seat and almost knocked his cousin to the ground.

"Darcy, do not do that! God, I could have stuck you with a blade if I had one. Lord! I am so tired, for I did not even sleep last night," he whined.

"Nerves?"

"No, Excitement; Immensely glad that this day has finally come. Has Wickham turned up yet? He was supposed to arrive here yesterday."

"No. I had word this morning. An express was forwarded on from Pemberley stating he will not be able to attend. Apparently, Mrs Wickham cannot be left on her own at present, as the court has just recorded Bingley's demise as suicide."

"Oh," Richard grimaced. "She must have taken the news badly then. The coroner was certainly quick in his decision in deeming him dead, but then there was no body to investigate for malpractice, and with the note, washed-up clothes, and his injuries, it was quite obvious what had happened. So, Caroline took it badly? I got the impression he was in her bad books for selling her off to Wickham."

"I do not believe their recent estrangement would allow her to wallow gleefully in his mortal downfall, Richard. I am unaware how she has taken it, neither does Wickham comprehend her rash behaviour. He writes that one minute she is tearful, the next angry; then she is quiet, and a moment later throwing the crockery at the walls in frustration. As Mrs Wickham is showing an erratic state to her behaviour, he feels it would be insupportable to leave her and will have no choice other than to remain at home."

"Or place her in Bedlam," Richard chuckled. "Well, at least that solves the possibility of the woman turning up uninvited. I did not wish to put you and Elizabeth into a predicament; especially now she is with child; anything could have happened… How does Beckie fare this morning?"

"I believe she is well. Elizabeth was with her when I left, hoping to calm her down from yesterday's talk."

"Blast! Did she take it that badly? I thought she would endure the discussion tolerably well. I knew I should have visited yesterday, but Beckie needed time to herself without me hanging around like a puppy seeking attention."

"I do not think my wife gave a typical talk," Darcy winced. "She did go into rather graphic detail from what she told me, plus she had books, one of which was that French manual that had been doing the circuits amongst the married women of society a while back."

"No! I must go to her; she is probably panicking now thinking I will attack her tonight."

"Will you not?" Darcy laughed.

"No, of course I will not; I want her induction into the marriage bed to be a gradual process. I do not wish to frighten my wife on our wedding night with what I want to do to her. I was prepared to go at her pace, even allow her to take control while I lie there if that was her want."

"You shock me, Richard. I did not expect you to be so… soft."

"She will be my wife and an innocent. I know I can be rather a beast when it comes to paid services, but they are used to it; my bride is not. The last thing I wish for is a wife who had been scared out of her wits on the first night of marriage and reluctant to repeat the process for the entirety of her life, then where would I be… So, do you think Elizabeth will be able to stem her nerves before this afternoon?"

"I am sure she will. My wife will give your future wife a woman's point of view and that what you keep in your breeches is not to be feared, but cherished."

"Cherished? Humph! I am sure I did not help by putting worriment into her thoughts with what I have said recently, but I could not help myself. I love to see her react with shock, but now I realise that I have only added fuel to the fire."

"She will be fine, Richard, and if not, you will just have to wait to make her yours; that chair will not get used with any haste," he laughed.

"I did not anticipate on using it tonight. Although, it would be such a wonderful thing if she did agree after our first… Maybe on the third or even the fourth go?"

* * *

The small intimate wedding was to be held in the parlour of the Davenport family home, followed by a light repast in the ballroom, which had been converted into a magnificent dining room. A plethora of hothouse flowers in vases filled the air with a sweet fragrance; reminiscent of springtime, and a roaring fire crackled and popped in the overlarge hearth to one side.

The cousins arrived an hour before the ceremony was due to commence and as they walked into the vestibule, they heard Georgiana's playful melody on the pianoforte. She had arrived the previous day and spent much of her time getting familiar with the Davenport's instrument. It had been requested she played during the first hour before the musicians arrived so that the guests were entertained whilst the last preparations were being carried out.

"Father, mother!" Richard called out on perceiving his parents standing in a small group of guests not far into the parlour. "Oh! I do beg your pardon, Your Lordship," he apologised whilst performing a profoundly exaggerated bow upon seeing Rebecca's uncle, The Marquess of -.

"Do not worry yourself, young man, and you may call me Uncle John from now on, as we will soon be family," he smiled. This took Richard quite by surprise, but it was a pleasant reaction. "I was just telling your father of the news that I have heard about that young man committing suicide. I understand you knew the chap, did you not?"

"Bingley? Yes." Richard cast a glance at Darcy who had made his way over to his sister on the other side of the room. "Damn sad case, if you ask me. The poor man was telling me a few months ago how he had been jumped upon in a darkened alley by some thugs, and they mutilated his face. Looks like he could not handle being disfigured and took his own life." _Bloody hell,_ Richard thought, _I am such a good actor. Maybe I should enrol in the local thespian_ _'_ _s society and perform dramatics in my spare time._ "I saw him not long after, in Bond Street; he was going to some dental quack for replacement teeth as they had been knocked out of his head. Think that was the last time I saw him." That allowed the group to naturally quit that line of conversation and smoothly move onto other topics. At least the limelight had been removed from Richard temporarily, and he could continue to enjoy his parents and The Marquess reminiscing about their youth.

"These young men are so vain, but then, _I remember in my day that some even had a panic attack when their powdered wigs were not properly secured. One gust of wind and the thing blew off._ _"_

"That is not fair, John, you know that it was a blasted magpie that swooped down and stole it from off of the top of my head," the Earl stated gruffly.

"Must have been those silver ribbons you used to tie around your double pigtails that caught its eye; you know they go after anything shiny."

"Yes, well… I was trying to impress my wife, whom at that time was not my wife and was ignoring me terribly," he grumbled.

"I only ignored you to make you interested in me," Lady Matlock chirped. "If I had paid you any consideration, you would have been inclined not to pursue an easy challenge and gone off with that Miss Juliette Garthwaite."

"What?! The little-freckled thing from Scotland? Unlikely."

"I thought you were quite taken with her," the Marquess queried.

"Hah! I like my women rounder than that malnourished chit of a girl. She was positively emaciated, even though she must have eaten a mountain of haggis during her then short life."

"That is very single-minded of you, husband; you have given the Scots quite a fixed form to their behaviour."

"Yes, haggis, whiskey and kilts with bare arses underneath; bearing all if they dare to bend over," the Earl guffawed.

"Henry, control yourself. Remember where we are and in whose company," Lady Matlock chastised, but both the Earl and Marquess could not refrain from glancing at each other before an outburst of laughter filled the room.

"I did… I did hear she married someone quite beneath her; I seem to remember he was a _True Scottish soldier,_ " the Marquess laughed.

"A man of the militia in his kilt, no doubt!" the Earl added.

"Well, if he did wear his… _uniform_ when they fled, it must have been flying up all over the place as they ran. Of course, being from Scotland, it was fairly easy to achieve an elopement; she went home to the family estate, and he followed not long afterwards. She snuck out in the middle of the night, and by morning they were Mr and Mrs Riley Sears. It must have been quite a spectacle to see them running away, the fabric flying up everywhere and possibly displaying his… particulars… His whistle and bells must have been bouncing about in quite a dynamic fashion as the couple took a sprint across the lawns… After it was all discovered, the family had no choice but to acknowledge him and hand over the twenty thousand pounds dowry or feel the consequences of a scandal, but it was all anyone wanted to talk about in town regardless."

As they continued their lively discussions of yesteryear, the room began to fill with guests. Richard started to feel affected as his concerns began to grow with the absence of his betrothed. He excused himself and went to seek out Darcy, who was still with his sister. "Darcy, I cannot bear this. I need to know what is happening. Shouldn't they have come down by now?"

"She will be well, Richard. Calm yourself. They will remain upstairs until the last moment. We still have a quarter of an hour-" but Darcy was interrupted upon seeing his wife at the doorway beckoning him over; she looked concerned.

"What is the matter, darling?" Darcy asked as he reached Elizabeth.

"I cannot pacify her. She is saying she cannot go through with the wedding."

"What?! Where is she?"

"In her father's study. I think it is only Richard who can quieten her now. Oh, Fitzwilliam, what have I done? I was hoping to give her everything she needed to know and have only sent her into such a state of alarm."

"What has happened?" Richard enquired on seeing the Darcys' concerning discourse, the seriousness of the discussion did not go amiss from across the room, even though Georgiana had attempted to distract her cousin from his apparent anxieties.

"It is Rebecca. I think you need to see her in the study. She is thinking of calling it off."

"No!" With that, Richard ran towards the room where his bride had taken refuge. "Beckie!" Richard cried out as he closed the door behind him; they were alone.

"I do not think I can go through with this, Richard. I doubt I can be your wife. After my talk with Elizabeth, I do not think I can bring myself to do the wifely duties you will ask of me; I do not mean just you, I mean with anyone. I cannot comprehend why someone would wish to do such things."

"What things, Beckie? Tell me," Richard asked softly as he placed his palm against her cheek and directed her gaze to him.

"Nearly everything, but in particular, this connielindies that Elizabeth explained… Oh! How can anyone-"

"Do you mean cunnilingus?" Rebecca scrunched up her face upon hearing such a sordid word. "Beckie, do you have your menses?"

"What a question!" she bleated out in disbelief.

"Well, do you?"

"No. They finished the middle of last week," she whispered her response, knowing that he would not give up the inquiry.

"So, do you permit me to demonstrate an intimate kiss… Here… Now?" he asked ever so tenderly, hoping that she would agree.

"But we cannot. We are not married and I… I…"

"We seem to be in a bit of a quagmire then. If I do not show you, you will not marry me; if you do not marry me, I cannot show you. So, I suggest I demonstrate now so that you can make your mind up."

"But-"

"But, nothing, Beckie. I love you to death, and I will not lose you over some fear of the unknown. Let me give you that knowledge; let me give you such pleasure that it will blow your mind away into the heavens and beyond." She knew she would be throwing away her happiness on something that was most likely a natural thing that all married couples were doing, but the thought only repulsed her. "Afterwards, if you still do not like it, I will not perform that particular act upon you again; I promise." She bit her lip whilst deep in thought but hesitantly agreed with a slight nod.

Richard walked her back towards the wall, and as she leaned back against the hard wooden panels, he bid her to relax. As the tension melted away from her in a deep sigh, he fell to his knees.

* * *

"What do you think is happening in there?" Elizabeth whispered to her husband as she prized her ear up against the door in an endeavour to hear what was being said.

"Come away, Lizzy. For all we know, they could be anticipating their vows."

"Do you think he would take her on the brink of their wedding ceremony? Maybe he is just trying to… Oh!" Elizabeth gasped as she heard Rebecca's cries of pleasure. "Maybe you were right, after all, Fitzwilliam." Elizabeth moved away from the door before Darcy grabbed her hand and led her over to the opposite end of the vestibule, where they could not be privy to the dalliance that was occurring in the study, but still close enough to discourage anyone who ventured into that direction.

The parlour, where the ceremony was to be held, was now at full capacity and the cacophony of voices radiated into the echoing space of the hallway. At least with the multiple discussions that surrounded them, there was no chance of the indecent cries of a bride and groom being heard.

A few minutes later, Richard emerged from the room; his expression quite gay and no doubt that his delicate assignation had proved fruitful. "Think she will be fine now, Darcy," he announced with a gratifying sigh before walking off towards the makeshift altar. Darcy kept quiet in this instance; he knew that to scold his cousin now would not be worth the hassle.

* * *

The ceremony went without a hitch. Rebecca seemed to glide on a floating fluffy cloud through most of the occasion, even to the point of being only half aware of the vicar's words. When it came to Richard vowing _'_ _with my body I thee worship',_ Rebecca saw a wicked glint in his eyes, so much so that she let out a slight giggle. Luckily, she managed to hush herself before it became apparent to the rest of the guests, but the vicar had noticed, and as on so many instances where such a reaction was displayed, he chose to ignore it.

A light repast had been enjoyed before the musicians changed from playing sombre music during the meal, to something quite expressive, which urged several guests to rise from their seats. "Care to dance, my Lady?" Richard asked of his bride. Rebecca blushed at her new title, but took his hand and strolled towards the clearing in the middle of the room, which had been reserved for the aforesaid entertainment.

Before Darcy could ask Elizabeth if she wished to partake, the Earl had grabbed her hand and led her forward. Darcy caught her eye and mouthed _'_ _be careful_ '. It would not do for Elizabeth to get one of her bilious turns whilst in such company and being turned around repeatedly after just having eaten did not fare well for his wife if his uncle was too boisterous during the reel.

Darcy walked the perimeter of the dance floor, as he had tended to do before his marriage. Only this time he was eagerly surveying his wife; the swish of her hips and the bounce of her bosom reminding him of what lay beneath the many layers of fabric. His uncle was far from his youthful agility, but was still quite sturdy and had the strength of an ox. He twirled Elizabeth around several times with ease, but it was about halfway through the dance when Darcy noticed Sir Thomas approaching his uncle and thus putting a halt to their rhythmic step. "Henry, Lady Catherine de Bourgh is here. I have asked the butler to show her into the parlour, but she is insistent on having an interview with yourself."

As the gentlemen were conversing, Richard noticed. "What do you think has happened, Beckie? I hope nothing is wrong, as both our fathers do not look best pleased… Oh! Darcy has joined them now; I think we need to go and see what is occurring."

"It seems that your aunt Catherine is here, Richard. She will not leave until one of us has had an interview with her."

All eyes looked at the Earl, then the groom.

"Don't look at me! I assume she is here to let everyone know she is not happy at being omitted from the guest list," Richard huffed. "I think it is time Beckie and I were off," Richard hastily added when he saw his father raise a brow.

"You will go nowhere; she may be here to congratulate you, even though you chose to ignore her when you prepared the invites; I knew your mother and Lady Davenport should have seen to that particular task."

"I did not ignore her. It was either Aunt Catherine or Darcy, as you know she does not want anything to do with the Darcy side of the family. I appreciate she is also family, but I would much prefer Darcy's company than that woman waiting for _you_ in the parlour."

"Mind your tongue, Richard, she is still your aunt, even if you do not like her."

"Yes, but as they say, you can choose your friends, but not your family."

"They also say that blood is thicker than water, remember that one."

"Oh, I do. But blood is more difficult to wash off when you do not wish to be covered in it."

"What is that supposed to mean?" the Earl commanded.

"Just that I… Oh! This is supposed to be the happiest day of our lives, and it is now being tainted with Aunt Catherine's interloping. I believe it is time for us to leave, as I doubt Aunt even considered how her interruption of our celebrations would play out with her bombarding her way in here. I cannot fathom why she is so annoyed at not being in attendance today when she only wishes for my presence at Easter when I do my annual visit to Rosings."

Within a quarter of an hour, Richard and Rebecca bid a farewell to their guests and boarded the carriage bound for Darley House. There was little to be accomplished as the trunks, along with other personal items had already been sent ahead the previous day.

"I suppose I better go and see what my sister wants," the Earl stated. "Cecilia, do you care to join me?"

"I think I better had. We have left her long enough, and I do not anticipate it has cured her mood, even though she has been offered an assortment of pastries from the wedding breakfast and a pot of tea."

As they entered, they saw a very red-faced relation standing by the fireside. "Brother, I suppose my invite got lost during transit," she commanded.


	41. Lady Catherine's Indignation

-0-

"What do you think is going on in there?" Elizabeth whispered as she again prized her ear up against the parlour door.

"Elizabeth, what is with all this eavesdropping? You really should not listen to other people's conversations; they are private," Darcy berated. "First, you heard Richard and I discussing Bingley, then earlier with Richard and Beckie, and now."

Elizabeth capitulated to his request; she could see that her husband was troubled and took no pleasure in the current situation and therefore lost his temper. Taking her leave of the wooden panels of the door, she moved away and into his company; she hoped to lighten the mood with her attempts to justify the curiosity that seemed to burn inside. "I know I should not, and it is a terrible habit that I possess. Father used to let me get off scot-free when I did it at home and laugh at my having been caught on more than one occasion. It was only when I discovered that the ruby necklace I used to wear made a clanking sound as it hit the wood, which alerted the occupants that there was a spy in their midst. Papa would suddenly open the door and announced to everyone that they had company. Of course, this made me feel quite dreadful at having eavesdropped in the first place, but Papa only found joy in discovering a quidnunc eager to find out the latest news.

"And did you do it again? Listen, that is?"

"Of course I did," she laughed. "Although, I do not like gossip and would never pass on the tidbits of information, I do like to know what is happening in the world."

There was little need for Elizabeth to edge her way so close to the door to require knowledge, for Lady Catherine's bellowing was clearly audible without the necessity of pressing ones ear against the said door. "How dare he not invite me, Henry! Am I not his most beloved aunt?!"

"Kitty, calm yourself before you have a seizure," the Earl replied. "There are many guests in this house, and you know your voice permeates the walls; you need to lower your tone."

"I will do no such thing! This is how I am, and I will not be putting on a show with a theatrical whisper to appease those whom I do not care for. And do not call me Kitty, you know I do not appreciate it!"

" _I apologise, your ladyship,"_ he answered with some smugness.

"Now, that is going too far, Henry."

"Catherine… Sister… Richard had a hard time deciding over the invites," he lied. "The Darcy's are here and you know my boy is very close to his cousin."

"But he is my only nephew," she responded without thought. The Earl flinched at her refusal to acknowledge her second nephew. It had been Lady Catherine's decision to make herself estranged from the Darcy family, but to disown him outright as she had just done, spoke of how little she valued the man. "I would have thought that at such a celebration, Richard would have wanted me here… I suppose Darcy has brought with him that worthless country chit from Hertfordshire, who is probably only good for someone's mistress? These country girls are far too wanton for their own good and do not make respectable wives."

"Elizabeth is no such thing. She is a devoted wife and part of this family, whether you like it or not."

"She is a nobody and has wheedled her way into Darcy's bed, or should I say her father wheedled his way into Georges confidence. Such mercenary behaviour; no doubt had his daughter's future planned out even before he stepped foot onto Pemberley soil. She does not belong by Darcy's side; Anne was destined for that position since her infancy and that… that woman stole it from under our noses."

"But you know Anne would not have made an adequate wife. Even when she was a sickly child, we all knew she would not be able to marry well; her wifely duties would not have been possible, and no man wishes for an inadequate spouse."

"Inadequate?! The housekeeper could have assisted her with the running of the household and would have been able to host small dinner parties. She would have done well enough if they had married when I wished it."

"I am not speaking of those duties. How do you expect Anne to bear children, when she cannot support her own body?"

"They could have adopted. The child would have been heir to not only Pemberley but also Rosings."

"Darcy wants to sire his own sprog, and he does not need Rosings. Plus, there is more to the marriage bed than just begetting an heir. A man cannot live without some sort of pleasures, which a capable wife would provide." The Earl knew first hand how a reluctant wife would be for Darcy if he had married his cousin, he would have taken a mistress at his earliest opportunity, even if he was averse to the idea as a young man.

"Henry! I do not wish to hear of such things!"

"Do not tell me Lewis did not request your presence in his chambers on frequent occasions, for I will not accept your lies." Lady Catherine refused to acknowledge the question, so the Earl moved the conversation on. "Where is Anne? She has not been left in the carriage again, has she?"

"Of course not. Anne was unable to attend."

"So, you have left her alone at home with only Mrs Jenkinson for company?"

"What would you have me do, brother?! Drag her out of bed, and travel halfway across the country in the middle of winter?! She is at home in her rooms, where she has been for the past three months."

"And you saw fit to come here and leave her when she is so ill? I cannot believe you would do such a thing as to leave an unwell child."

"She is an adult, not a child; there is nothing I can do to improve her state of health. Besides, she rarely comes out of her rooms, and there are more days than not that I do not see her."

"She may be past her majority, but her dependence is that of a child. And I cannot understand why you keep away from her; you know the doctor said her ailments are not contagious." The Earl could not believe his sister. Not only had she left her daughter for a week plus in order to travel north, but had not paid her the courtesy of a daily visit whilst living under the same roof. "So, I suppose you are not to return tonight?"

"Of course not. It has taken me three days to get here, and they were exceedingly long days. I will return with you to Matlock and then take my leave middle of next week; I assume that you will leave here on the morrow?"

"Yes," he sighed. He knew that there were no rooms available due to many of the guests staying overnight. Sir Thomas had previously requested he share a suite with his wife; a hardship the Earl was most willing to endure. "I am sure Cecelia can entertain you for a short while, while I go and determine where your quarters will be. I am sure Sir Thomas can find a decent suite, even if the house is full to the brim," he said before taking his leave.

As the Earl left the room, he saw Darcy and Elizabeth sitting on the opposite side of the vestibule. Darcy's head was bent forward and being supported in the cradle of his hands; Elizabeth seemed to be comforting him, but also showed signs of disquietude.

"Blast! Did you both hear?" the Earl queried as he came forward.

"You cannot help but hear her boom, Uncle. So I am not even considered a nephew and Elizabeth is a worthless country chit. How dare she cast aspersions!?" he growled. "She knows neither myself or my wife to pass judgement. Fifteen years, Uncle, and nothing! Not even a letter of condolence when father died! Well, that has certainly paid valediction to a reunion, but I should have known she would act as such. There is no possible way now that I will even consider being pleasant to that woman."

"Oh, Darcy. I wish I could talk sense into my sister, but she has always been so headstrong; her mulish behaviour is not out of the ordinary. She takes after my mother; she was a woman you would never answer back, even if you knew you were in the right."

"I vaguely remember grandmother, but she was nothing like that woman sitting in the parlour. At least she respected those around her, even if she was formidable. I do not care if Lady Catherine is an elder within the family, I will not be going out of my way to pay her any pleasantries, and she does not deserve my respect!"

"It is probably best that you keep out of her way as much as possible until you take your leave in the morning. Even in someone else's house, she will have no issues in letting her feelings be known at the cost of harmonious accord. Now, I need to see Sir Thomas, as Lady Catherine will be staying the night and there are no rooms left."

"She can have mine. I can stay in Fitzwilliam's room tonight as we usually stay in the same bed. So long as the door between the rooms is locked."

"You want her in the next room?" the Earl asked with some amount of shock.

"It has no impact on myself or Fitzwilliam where she stays. The door will be locked, and we will be asleep for most of the time."

The Earl agreed and left to see Sir Thomas about the relocation of his niece in favour of the interloper taking her rooms.

"You should not have given up your room so easily, Lizzy. Especially to that woman after what she said."

"Oh, Fitzwilliam. Do you not understand the reason behind why I suggested it," she smirked. "The wall between our rooms is so thin that you can hear a pin drop."

"My God! Are you saying that when we make love tonight, you wish for my aunt to overhear us?" he gasped.

"She expects a wanton wife, so she will get one. Now, Fitzwilliam, I believe we should retire early to our room so that I can oversee the removal of my things and keep out of Lady Catherine's way."

* * *

"Are you sure about this, Lizzy? We do not have to do this if you wish to renege," Darcy asked as he watched his wife stroll in from the dressing room that evening. She was wearing one of his silk robes which revealed every bump and relief of her body. He caught his breath when he saw her nipples harden, but was uncertain if their involuntary awakening from their sleeping place was due to his intense gaze or their movement against the soft, delicate material. Either way, he appreciated their pertness with increasing desire. His eyes wandered down the length of her body where he instantly determined the hair upon her mons pubis; the coarseness of which had delicately impressed upon the thin fabric, leaving behind a reminder of what lay beneath. He groaned his appreciation as she came towards him as the material flowed between her legs, displaying the curve of her womanhood.

" _You are in luck, kind sir, that I am not dragging you out into the barn. I hear haylofts are quite a desirable place amongst the likes of us yokels,"_ she chirped.

"But I am sure you would not appreciate the freezing temperatures outside, my love." Elizabeth came closer and pushed her husband back; his legs hit the base of the bed, and he fell backwards. "Oh! Being feisty, are you?" he smiled as he perched himself up on his elbows.

"I can be feisty, or I can be overpowered, if that is your wish, _sir._ "

"Why do you keep calling me sir, Lizzy?"

"Are you not the almighty master and I a lowly country bumpkin you just picked up along the roadside?"

"Lizzy?!" he chuckled. "Do not tell me you wish for role play; are you pretending to be roadside strumpet?"

"Oh aye, _sir_ ," she snickered. "For that is who I am. Roadside strumpet with a mercenary intent on your pocketbook and the family jewels," she stated whilst eyeing the prominent protrusion at his loin. "I would take the family jewels over any amount of money, for they are quite spectacular," she licked her lips seductively as she watched Darcy's tarse twitch under the covering of his own robe.

"I cannot take a mistress, even is she is so enticing as the woman who stands before me. I love my wife dearly and want no one but her," Darcy breathed into Elizabeth's ear as he pulled her to him, but she pushed him back onto the bed once more and stood back up. His eyes widened as she slowly tugged the cincture of the robe and allowed the fabric to fall open. "Oh! Lizzy," he gulped.

"You like what you see, master?" She asked as she pushed the garment from her shoulders; Darcy nodded enthusiastically but did not make a move. "Would master care to… touch?" He affirmed once more before attempting to caress her breasts, but Elizabeth pulled away. "Nay, sir, I have not said you can... yet."

Darcy was not in the mood for teasing; he wanted his wife. He stood, pulled his robe from his body with impact and threw it to the floor with such force that Elizabeth understood that this manoeuvre had paid an end to her playfulness. Standing before her, she found her husband, a masculine form of formidable proportions, his stance powerful yet she understood his ways would be gentle. He took one effective step towards her and pulled Elizabeth into his embrace where he kissed her without hesitancy and all the passion of a man deeply in love.

"Yes!" she gasped, as he threw her onto the bed.

* * *

The pounding upon the door was the first reproof that had disenthrall the couple from their amatory haven. Their bodies were too sated from the onslaught of passion, that neither could do anything to stop the continual buffeting of the wooden structure. "Go away!" Darcy finally objected in a tone close to a whinge.

"This is an outrage!" Lady Catherine bellowed.

Darcy ignored the woman but could see Elizabeth was now becoming concerned that Lady Catherine was wanting a confrontation and was pounding so violently that she feared the door would come off of its hinges. "Do not answer, Fitzwilliam," she begged.

"I have no intention of doing so. Why should I respond to her beck and call? It has gone midnight, and most of the guests have already retired for the evening. Hopefully, she will give up." He turned onto his side and pulled Elizabeth into his enfold. "I love you, Lizzy." His voice was warm and reassuring, unlike the articulated abuse from the woman outside.

It had been a quarter of an hour before the Darcy's heard the door to the neighbouring room slam shut. Lady Catherine had made such a furore that Sir Thomas was called upon to quieten the unwanted guest. Even his placid demeanour was being tested to the full, and it was not until he threatened to have her removed from his house that instant, that she relented and returned to her bedchambers.

* * *

The Darcy's were able to rise and take breakfast early. Hoping that Lady Catherine would have slept little in the night and so rise late. They ventured down into the breakfast room to partake in the early morning meal, however, as they entered, they determined not only the Earl sitting at the table but his sister. Darcy stiffened as their eyes locked, but would not be put upon to retrieve back to his room and call for a tray. Elizabeth grasped his arm, which she was holding, indicating her shock at facing her antagonist from the night before. "I will not bow to her whim, we shall sit at the end of the table and have nothing to do with her, my love," Darcy whispered so only his wife could hear. She nodded in agreement and took the seat at the far end of the twelve-seater table.

"I was correct in my assumption, brother. She is a wanton chit, acting like a gentleman's whore!" Darcy dropped his fork which had been midway between his plate and his mouth; his head turned slowly but surely towards the other end of the table. "Anne would have acted with dignity and grace, not as some trollop."

The Earl was about to rebuke when he observed his nephew; the man could defend his wife and did not require his input. Darcy grabbed Elizabeth's hand under the table hoping it would console her before his anger was liberated. "Do you find enjoyment in belittling my wife? How dare you judge Mrs Darcy, when you do not know her."

"What do I care for the lady, and I say lady, loosely. Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted with inferior blood? Your ancestors will surely be turning in their grave to know that your future lineage will be tainted with such inferior breeding."

"Inferior breeding? Mrs Darcy is a gentleman's daughter, and I am a gentleman; thus far we are equal."

"True, but from my understanding, she has relatives in trade. Who was her mother? Who is her uncle? Do not imagine me ignorant of their condition!"

"For someone who has not taken an interest in my life, you have made a conscious effort to get to know my wife's. Yes, her mother was an attorney's daughter, but Mr Bennet was a well established and respected gentleman of Hertfordshire. Her uncle is in trade, but is more gentleman-like than most who have been conveniently born into the position."

"But none the less, they are both of inferior birth."

"Who gives a damn! If I have no objection to them, then they can mean nothing to you. You have refused to acknowledge the Darcy family for fifteen years, and I will not allow you to concern yourself with my life now."

"But you were meant for my daughter and not this harlot-"

Darcy stood abruptly. "That is enough!" he commanded as he threw his napkin down on the table. "You have insulted my wife in every possible manner and therefore insulted me! I love her dearly, and even if she were not in my life, I would never consider marrying _your_ daughter. If my cousin were a fraction of her mother, she would not be worthy of the Darcy name."

"Ha! Do you think your name is better placed than that of the de Boughs? Where is your title? Where is your nobility? All you can claim is a connection with that of your mother's family."

"What is a title, when it does not come with happiness? I would prefer to live a life of a pauper if it was the only way I could have the bliss that I experience with my wife by my side."

"Please, Fitzwilliam, do not argue so," Elizabeth pleaded.

Darcy, now seeing Elizabeth's state, wished to remove them both from the room so that they could arouse Georgiana and leave. "Not so hasty, if you please."

"I do not please. You have insulted my wife in every possible method, and I will not allow this to continue." At this, Elizabeth clutched her head and sat back down. "Elizabeth!"

"I do not feel well," she whimpered.

"Call for the doctor!" he demanded of the footman, who left immediately.

"Acting! Nothing but a charade to get sympathy and she will not have it from me!"

"How dare you sit there and judge whether my wife is ill or not. Are you a physician all of a sudden? She is with child, and she should not be upset like this!"

Lady Catherine gaped at the man before him, unable to respond to this revelation.

* * *

Fitzwilliam, I only felt a little faint because of the situation. I do not wish to stay another day," Elizabeth said as she lay down on the bed.

"I will not take any chances, darling. Once the doctor has said you are well, we will leave, but I have requested that Georgiana come home with us for a few days, as I do not wish to have you travel further than necessary. I will take her back to school later in the week."

"She said some awful things… I did not think anyone from such a background could be so vile."

"She has been left to her own devices in Kent with only her sickly daughter and a paid companion for company. Father did not wish for the alliance between my cousin and myself, even before we met as children.

Lady Catherine has lived with this denial for years, and it has grown putrid and petrified her moral standing."

"I should have thought before I suggested last night that we-"

"Shhh. I will have none of that. We did not do anything out of the ordinary. I love you with a passion, and I thank our fathers every day that they made the decision for our union. You are my perfect partner; it is as though we were made for each other and destiny was determined for us to meet. I would have had no other."

"I love you too, Fitzwilliam. It is only that-"

"Lizzy, please do not think upon Lady Catherine's words. She is an angry woman taking her pathetic existence out on others who she finds not wanting in any way."

"But I am wanting," Elizabeth said softly.

"How so?" Darcy puzzled.

"I want a kiss from my husband."

Darcy smiled and placed a tender kiss upon her lips. "Rest now, my love," Darcy urged, and it was not long before a soft mumbling was heard, denoting Elizabeth's slumbered state.


	42. Show Me Heaven, My Lord

-0-

The low winter's sun flooded in through the southeast facing windows of the master's bedchambers at Darley House and choked the air of its dimness. So much so that Richard groaned his annoyance at having been woken at such an early hour as a blaze of light hit his face. Gingerly, he prized one eye open and noted the time from the clock on the mantelpiece; it was close to eleven. Now irked at having been dragged from his titivating dreams before noon and forgetting he had a companion in his bed, Richard churned within the bedsheets to remove himself from the glare. "Bloody sun!" he exclaimed to himself with a bearish mumble.

"Oh! You are awake!" came the chirp of a soft feminine voice.

With eyes still closed, a broad smile spread across his face as he recalled with delight the fact he had finally married. On this, he turned over again to greet his most beloved wife; Rebecca was next to him, sitting up and looking down at something between her legs. She had already dressed in her attire from the night before; an act Richard could not help but briefly moue over.

"You do realise that putting your robe back on will be a meaningless task, for I will only remove it again… What are you doing, Beckie?" he asked groggily as he sat up and rested his chin upon her shoulder from behind whilst wrapping his arm about her waist.

"Oh! Erm?" she drew a wry expression in exchange for an initial answer, then elaborated. "Just… inspecting."

Richard peered down from his resting place to the object of her curiosity and his desire. "Are you in pain?" he enquired, now concerned that his actions from the night before had injured her.

"No. It was but a twinge at the time. _No need to feel guilty about abusing me so abominably during your attack upon my person."_

"I am glad you are well. I did try and not take you in a rush, but I sensed you approved of a more spirited pace once we were connected. I knew from the new husband's who talked at White's that they should have taken caution and progressed at a slower pace; their wives were seriously displeased."

"Dickie! You cannot go talking about me at your club! I will blush every time we invite any of your friends for dinner."

"I have no intention of doing so. I cannot stop others from their inconsiderate revelations about their spouses, but I am determined to keep your name well away from that establishment. I will not go bragging at how I did this or that to all and sundry there, and then give them the opportunity to provide me with their tuppenceworth on the subject."

"Although, I take it you do confide in Mr Darcy," she raised a brow to challenge; Richard winced.

"Do you mind? He is like a brother to me, and we do hold each other's confidence. You can talk to Elizabeth if you wish. _I do not mind if you tell her I am a stallion in the bedchambers,_ _"_ he grinned.

"I suppose, but nothing too detailed. I do not wish for my new cousin to be knowledgeable on that particular subject."

"He will not be; that wisdom is for me alone and will keep it to a minimum. If I am to seek advice, it will be of a hypothetical nature."

At this point, Richard heard his wife's belly grumble. They had not eaten since the previous afternoon, as by the time they had arrived at Darley House, Richard had carried her up the stairs and attempted to play abigail, but Rebecca asked for an hour to prepare herself with the assistance of someone who knew what they were doing.

* * *

 ** _*** Flashback_**

"Do you wish for your hair to be tied back or left loose, my lady?" Sally, Rebecca's longstanding abigail, asked as she finished brushing her mistresses long golden hair the appropriate one hundred times.

"Loose, but leave a ribbon out in case I want to tie it back before sleep." Sally smiled knowingly, making Rebecca blush; she comprehended what she had just said for there would be no sleep for quite some time.

Before the maid had time to finish her duties, Richard knocked on the door and without permission to enter, poked his head around it. "Is it alright to come in?" he ventured.

"Y… Yes, I am nearly done," Rebecca confirmed with no amount of confidence.

"You will be," he snorted, then cleared his throat when he noticed his wife's maid busy on the other side of the room. "Sorry, darling... Sally, you may leave now. We will ring for you in the morning."

As the door clicked shut, Richard noticed his wife's increasing nerves. She was still sitting at her dressing table in a tremulant state and was unable to look to his direction; she only concentrated on her hands, which sat cradled upon her lap. "Beckie," he soothed as he knelt down beside her. "I am willing to go at your pace, even if it means I do not make you mine tonight. I will not rush things if you are not ready."

"But it is your right and my duty as your wife."

"But _my_ duty is to ensure you are cared for, and that includes your state of mind. I must confess though, that I am hoping you will be adequately courageous in overcoming your worries," he said as he stroked the length of her hair. "So beautiful. It is a shame ladies are prevailed upon to wear their hair up; you look like the purest of angels sitting there in your white robe." His fingers were now caressing her cheeks and down her neck to her valley between her breasts; the gentle touch made Rebecca almost lose herself but recollected he had said something to her before she had been distracted by his tenderness.

"I do not think it will be necessary to postpone anything; what you did this afternoon was quite…" She stopped, closed her eyes and sighed heavily as the remembrance of his tongue lapping at her most private of areas came foremost in her mind.

"Wonderful?"

"Yes, wonderful. And now, your touch is heavenly."

"And there is more 'wonderful and heavenly' to come, my darling Beckie," he said as he stood. "Come." He held his hands out, inviting her into his arms. As she rose to her feet, Richard whisked her up into his arms and spun her around. As expected, Rebecca let out a giggle and demanded he put her down. "Unlikely!" he huffed as he turned towards the connecting door and into his own bedchambers.

"Oh!" Rebecca stopped giggling on entering the master suite and looked around with wide eyes; she had not expected it to be so sumptuous. The walls were completely draped with maroon shot silk; she envisaged them to be the colour of deep red wine. The mahogany bed was as she thought, imposing yet elegant with its simple lines. Its drapes matching those of the walls with accents of gold in the counterpane and cushions that were scattered on the bed. Several golden candelabrum were placed around the room as well as wall sconces fixed upon framed mirrors, giving it a warm but brighter than necessary glow. Rebecca supposed this to be a conscious decision by her husband, so that he could take delight in seeing what he was doing, rather than grope around in the dark. The main source of illumination was the grand chandelier which hung from the centre of the room; its elaborate crystals glistening from the flames cast fragments of refracted light across the mahogany coffered ceiling. "I had not imagined your room to be so romantic."

"Thought you would like it; I had it redone last month and have been sleeping in one of the guest rooms since. I wanted it to be all new for the both of us."

"What is that?" Rebecca asked on seeing a rather peculiar chaise to one side of the room.

"Darcy's secret wedding gift," Richard grinned.

"Secret? Why does it have to be secret? It looks like a very comfortable way to read a book; it should be in the library."

"We will not be reading, my dear. Its true usage will soon become clear."

Richard placed his wife upon the turned down bed before settling in next to her. As they looked at each other, still in their robes, he pulled her to him and rolled onto his back so that Rebecca was laying on top of him; her knees naturally dropped onto the mattress either side of his thighs. "Did you do as I asked?" Rebecca nodded shyly, remembering his request that she wore nothing under her robe. She knew that eventually, she would have to bear all, but tried not to think upon that just yet, else she would swoon.

Without their connected gaze breaking, Richard fumbled at his waist, and before Rebecca could observe what was happening, his robe had been pulled open; now she was laying on top of his naked body. "Are you wishing I do the same?" she gulped.

"No. I will take that delightful duty myself." He tugged at her own belt and the tie released. She felt the tightness of the cincture relax, and then the front panels of the garment were pulled out from between their bodies. Now they were deliciously skin on skin; he could feel her breasts press against his chest, and when she slightly shifted, had determined her nipples were hard as they scraped somewhat over his skin.

"This is quite unusual. Elizabeth said you would-"

"Elizabeth does not know what I wish for. By undressing you this way, you will not be so exposed… Well, not until we are used to each other to some degree." Richard, with some awkward shifting, shrugged his own robe from his shoulders, lifted himself off of the mattress enough that he could pull the silken garment from under him and threw it to the floor. On seeing this, Rebecca grew bold and did the same; Now they were both deliciously naked as their bodies pressed against each other.

Richard rolled over once more and peered down into his lover's eyes from above. "I love you, Beckie. As I said, if I rush you, you must tell me." He bent down, and a tingle spread throughout her body as their lips touched. A passion between them proliferated and it was not long before Richard's hands started to wander. The first destination was her pert breasts, begging to be caressed as they rubbed against him. "They fit my hands perfectly," he breathed as he continued to grapple the malleable flesh before pinching the hardened tip. As he did this, Rebecca thrust her hips into his loin; her husband's manipulation of her bosoms had brought on such a profound need to buck against him; a spontaneous reaction that she did not understand, but could not disobey. Richard's hand descended further, and as he reached her pudic flesh, Rebecca let out a groan. "Do you like that?" he softly asked as he delved into the wetness of her womanhood.

"Yes, oh, yes!" she cried.

"Or would you prefer my tongue?" Richard did not need an answer, for his wife had placed her hands upon the top of his head and pushed him down. He chuckled to himself at what now appeared to be a very demanding wife; so different from the nervous maiden of half an hour ago. He kissed his way down her body, taking delight on his journey towards his oasis. As he reached her quim, which would quench his thirst, he rubbed his nose along its furrow. Her womanhood was sparingly covered in blond hairs, and Richard could not help but admit his observation. "Oh, how pretty your fanny is, my love, and so sweet," he confessed as he worshipped his wife from between her thighs.

Rebecca could not think straight but abandoned herself to his cause; all the sensations that she was now experiencing surpassed what she had felt that afternoon as she stood against the wall in her father's study. Her husband's tongue was soft and did not cease its regard; not until she started to tremble. "Richard! Why have you stopped?" she gasped.

He quickly applied his thumb to the area which had been recently abandoned before moving between her legs. She could feel him press against her opening, but the pressure was not enough to push through the contributory factor of her maidenhood. Richard had already contemplated on this moment and wished it to be of her making, not his. Knowing how she reacted quite violently to his attentions upon her nipples, he tweaked them once more.

"Ah!" she cried as she bucked her hips into his loin once again, and as she did, Richard mirrored her manoeuvre and thrust himself into her heat.

He did not move but panted heavily as he buried his face into the bountiful of golden hair which lay upon the pillow. Swallowing hard, he tried to calm himself, but he was drowning; the warmth surrounded him, his turgid state was slickened in his wife's own arousal, and she was tight.

As he tried not to end it all prematurely; he attempted to think of things that would distract him. However, his mind played a merry joke, for all he could think of was that he was buried, tallywags deep, in his wife. All the whores he had laid with were slack due to their profession; even Lady Bosworth, being ten years his senior was nowhere near as lush as Rebecca, who was at that moment, grabbing hold of his eager plug tail with determination.

He felt a hand on the back of his neck; fingers stroking down from the nape to between his collarbones and back up around his shoulders. He finally lifted his head to see her looking at him; her expression full of love and dare he presume, desire?

Seeing she was not in much distress, he applied to her slowly, and upon the first thrust, Rebecca let out a cry. "Are you in pain?" He stopped suddenly as he realised she may well be injured.

"No! No! Do not stop!" she almost growled. At this command, Richard abandoned the thought of his wife being made of glass and began to move more vigorously, but still kept in the back of his mind that she was, up until that moment, unsullied and probably afflicted.

Gazing down at his love, Richard could not help but feel emotional; he continued at a relentless pace until he felt the unbearable tightness in anticipation of her own pleasures. As he took his wife and made her his in the still of the night, she cried out "Come with me, Richard, take me to the heavens!" On command, he thrust thrice more, strangled a cry as he expelled, and collapsed.

 ** _*** end of flashback_**

* * *

"Do you wish for me to ring the bell?" he asked on assuming her hunger pangs needed sustenance.

"Not yet," she smiled. She grabbed her husband's hand and placed it between her legs. "I think I am in need once more." With that, Richard obliterated the notion of breaking fast in favour of indulging his wife.

* * *

It was early afternoon when the doctor had finally arrived and declared Elizabeth well enough to travel. As she had predicted, the anxiety of the morning had brought on a fit of the vapours and nothing more. It was only when the physician had confirmed she was in good health, that Darcy allowed himself to relax.

The Earl and Lady Matlock had left not long after the disruption in the breakfast room and so taking with them the object of Darcy's discontentment. The Earl was eager to remove Lady Catherine from the vicinity before she plunged the family name into an unnecessary scandal. As it was, most of the guests who had stayed over, knew of the lady's behaviour and thought nothing of it. However, there were a few who would have no qualms in telling all of society what had occurred, when they returned to town.

"I am so sorry, Fitzwilliam, I have disappointed your family," atoned Elizabeth from the forward facing seat of their carriage as Clifton Manor disappeared into the distance. Georgiana was sitting next to her, whilst Darcy had taken the backward facing seat.

"You have not disappointed anyone, Elizabeth. I will have none of this self-blaming. My aunt did not impede on my father's wishes years ago and is taking it out on you… and me."

"But if she feels like this, then half of society will concur when we do eventually go to town!"

"Sweetling, they will not. I have heard it on several occasions that most see Lady Catherine as nothing more than an obstinate provoker. She challenges everyone and does not bend to other's thinking; she would even consider arguing with the pope if her opinion was different on whatever subject they were discussing. The way she talks to Richard when he makes his annual visit to Rosings would make your toes curl; she has no respect for anyone, even those who assist her without reward."

"Has she met Rebecca yet?"

"No, and I doubt she will. My cousin is too protective and has already let it be known that he will continue his visits, but will not take Rebecca with him. That, in turn, will allow him the excuse to cut his month-long visit down to a week."

"If he feels like that, why does he not refuse? I am sure a good steward can correspond with him and save him the trouble."

"He thought about that, but when both Anne and Lady Catherine die, he will inherit Rosings and be left with the estate. He hopes for it to at least be in a condition that will sell quickly. If left to her own devices, the house would need major works before any buyer is interested in purchasing."

"He would not wish to live there?"

"No. Richard already has Darley House and the grounds. It is not an estate, but when he comes into his inheritance, he will own half of Matlock. The Earl's seat is more substantial than Pemberley, plus it is close to the Davenports home and Rebecca will appreciate the closeness."

"It is not as pretty as Pemberley though, so cousin Richard and Rebecca no doubt will still call upon us during the summer months for no reason other than the fine views," Georgiana said as she lifted her eyes from the book in her lap. "So, what happened last night?"

"Lady Catherine happened last night," was all that Darcy said.

"Oh! I overheard someone mention something about a disturbance; they were not best pleased with being woken from their sleep and was being rather derogatory towards Lady Catherine. I must have slept through it all. So, our estranged aunt finally acknowledged our existence?"

"Acknowledged, abused, and threatened in abundance. I am so thankful that Sir Thomas kept you away from the parlour and kept you entertained until you retired to your room." Darcy did not inform his sister that their aunt did not even think to mention the younger sibling.

"Oh, I did not wish to venture out into the vestibule and Lady Catherine was soon trundled off to her rooms. I did hear illegible rumblings though when she was downstairs, so knew something had occurred. At least now we will not see her again in a hurry," she said with a flippant tone and returned to her book.

Darcy looked at Elizabeth; a tender smile adorned his face as he pushed the deranged woman from his mine in favour of recollecting the doctor's words. _Your wife is in good health, and I must congratulate you, for you will be the proud father of a newborn by late summer._ He had confirmed his wife's condition. "We will be home soon, my love, and all will be well again."


	43. Pemberley

-0-

The Darcy carriage arrived at Pemberley just before dark. As the travellers entered the vestibule, Elizabeth espied the London servant had already taken up his position as the replacement butler. "Gladstone!" she exclaimed gleefully as she cast her gaze into his direction.

"Ma'am," he acknowledged with a bow and a hint of gaiety that Elizabeth had never seen before from the man.

"It is good to see you. When did you arrive?"

"Day before yesterday, Mrs Darcy," he confirmed as he instructed Edward to assist with the removal of Darcy's outerwear; Hannah had appeared to aid Elizabeth whilst Georgiana had already gone to her rooms to use the chamber pot.

"Mrs Reynolds will be so glad you have arrived; the poor woman has been rushed off of her feet these past few weeks. If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask either myself or Mr Darcy."

"Yes, thank you, ma'am. Mrs Reynolds is delighted at my arrival." Elizabeth noticed Gladstone's ears blush and wondered at his altered complexion. "I will ask Mrs Reynolds to arrange tea," said he, before returning to his duties.

"Did you see him blush, Fitzwilliam," she asked in a conspiratorial whisper as they made their way into the parlour.

"Gladstone and Mrs Reynolds have a history."

Elizabeth smiled at this information. "Really?! Do you think we should encourage the couple?"

"I do not care for my staff to marry within the household. It does not sit well if arguments pursue and they bring their ill feelings to work."

"But how can you not allow love to flourish? How would you have coped if we were in their position and could not be together?"

"That is different."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes at her husband's response; he was not thinking this through properly and only had his own comfort in mind. "Why would you not let them test out your theory? Allow them to marry if they so wish it, but stipulate that if there are issues with them both being here, then one will have to leave."

"I do not wish to lose either of them. I would be lost with losing Mrs Reynolds, and Gladstone would not be able to go back to Town; not after he has taken a wife."

"So let nature take its course, as I believe they are mature enough not to let any squabbles they have bother you, and it is not as if she will leave due to being with child. She must be passed that time of life. It is a shame she never had children."

"She nearly did. She lost it though."

"Oh! I did not realise she was married as I thought she only took the title of Mrs due to her position."

"No, she married, but he died years ago... Let me think this through, Elizabeth, I cannot make a snap decision on a whim." At least Elizabeth had done enough to make Darcy ponder on the subject. Hopefully, he would see her way of thinking.

"Has Mr Stoker now left?" she asked in an attempt to change the subject.

"It was organised that he would take up residence in the cottage when Gladstone arrived, so hopefully he is now settled. My attorney in London has arranged an annuity of a hundred pounds a year with an additional one hundred in the first year; he will be able to live quite comfortably with such an amount as there will be no rent to pay."

"You are all goodness; your kindness does you credit."

"Who is all goodness?" Georgiana asked as she came back into the room.

"Your brother. He has set Mr Stoker up for life."

"He is so charitable. I wonder he has any money left for himself after he has settled all of his obligations."

"Georgie! It is of little consequence, and the man deserves to be rewarded for his lifelong commitment to this family," Darcy responded.

Elizabeth silently thought of her sister's incredible words. She, who was still expecting the pianoforte at the end of the year could not accept her brother being generous with his own money to someone who had spent decades in service to the family.

Darcy continued. "He has been with the family a long time, serving our father and his father before him. The cottage on the borders of Lambton has been vacant and sitting idle for some time in a rather ramshackle state. I instructed a few willing tenants to help with making it habitable again."

"Willing? And what enticement did you dangle under their noses?"

"A rebate on a sennight's rent. Quite a few jumped at the chance, but I only allowed for five to work on the building; any more and there was a great danger of overcrowding and accidents happen in those conditions."

"Is it now fixed?"

"Yes. It is only a small cottage accommodating one or two people, but it did need quite a lot doing to the place, including fixing the thatched roof. Mr Stoker was almost in tears when Mr Harvey took him to see it last week."

"I suppose some of that would have been due to the realisation that he will no longer be working for you; his time will be his own now that he does not have to worry about his duties."

"Well, he did say he would like to do something; a hobby perhaps, but he was not sure what."

" _Maybe you will find him fishing in your lake by the weekend,"_ she laughed.

"Oh! I hear he used to paint rather pretty watercolours, but not sure now due to his illness," Georgiana pipped in. "Maybe if he does, you can get him to paint the house from the top of the eminence, at the vista by the edge of the woods. That view is breathtaking," she gushed.

"Why have I not seen the house from this vista you talk of?" Elizabeth asked in puzzlement. "I suppose I have been rather lazy since I have been at Pemberley. I used to walk for miles when I lived in Hertfordshire, but London put a pause to that pursuit, and I got out of the habit. Maybe I should take a stroll there tomorrow."

"You will do no such thing; it is nearly two miles and uphill; take the phaeton and get a competent footman to accompany you, or I can take you."

"It is only two miles, Fitzwilliam. I would walk five on a fine day."

"But it is a four-mile round trip and on an incline. You cannot exert yourself whilst in such a delicate condition, plus you are no longer used to it," Darcy stated, but realised what he had divulged with his sister in the room.

"Are you unwell, Elizabeth," she asked with concern. "Was it Lady Catherine's visit which has made you ill… but I thought the doctor said-"

"I am with child, Georgiana, that is all," Elizabeth confessed after noticing her husband's awkwardness. Her hand extended to clasp his and he looked up at her with a shy smile. _Is my husband bashful all of a sudden?_

"All!?" she cheered. "I am going to be an aunty!" She danced around the room before realising she should not be acting like a child anymore. One of the etiquette lessons during her short time at the Yorkshire school had taught her that; she needed to behave as a young woman should, and that did not include dancing a jig around the parlour. "I do beg your pardon for my display… But it is oh such good news. When is he or she due? Have you fixed on any names yet? If it is a girl, can you call her Georgie? Can you feel the baby move? Oh, I hope it is a girl, then we can dress her up in frilly lace and bows. Do you think it is a girl or a boy? Do you know the due date? Oh! I said that already. Have you noticed your clothes getting tight? What will happen when you do swell; your stays will not fit? You must sit down; put your feet up on the footstool. Brother, you need to make sure she eats regularly and drinks plenty of water."

"Georgie! So many questions. It is due at the end of the summer, which is what we thought. It is too early for a new wardrobe. We do not know what it is and will not until the baby comes into the world, and we have no names, and I do not mind if it is a boy or girl," Darcy replied now having conquered his embarrassment.

"You do not particularly wish for a son? I thought most men required boys; a male heir to continue the Darcy name," Elizabeth queried.

"I do not mind. The estate has no entailment, and we have plenty of time ahead of us to try for boys if the first is a girl."

" _I suppose you expect me to pop one out each year,"_ Elizabeth laughed. _"_ _I could attempt to align myself with Queen Charlotte's achievement; fifteen babies in one and twenty years!"_

" _I better start saving for our daughters' dowries then,"_ he chuckled. "The boys will be pretty simple, the heir will get Pemberley, and the remaining boys will have the business properties divided between them."

" _Maybe I should ask the queen what her secret is if I am presented at court."_

"Do you wish to be? Presented, that is. Aunt Cecilia was thinking of sponsoring you, but I thought you would not wish to attend."

"I am not too keen on the idea. I think those who receive that privilege should be young debutants heading out into society for the first time, not old wives like myself who have been around for quite some time."

"You are not old. Elizabeth, you are only five years older than Georgiana, and she has yet to reach that age."

"But by the time I am decent enough to attend, I will be older, and as we have predicted, I will probably be with child again."

"Pop! Pop! Pop!" Georgie giggled.

* * *

Due to the events of the day, everyone retired early. As per her husband's request, Elizabeth came to the master's rooms, but on entering, she noticed the new purchase that Darcy had ordered placed in front of one of the windows. "I see we have a new piece of furniture," she called out to Darcy, who was still in his dressing room.

"Yes, it arrived two days ago… That will be all, Roger, you may retire for the night."

On hearing the servants door close, Elizabeth deployed the candle, that was essential in traversing the unlit sitting room, to a nearby table and disrobed. Reclining upon the chair, she allowed her back to rest against the highest curve with her feet placed on the lower end. Darcy came into the room, but froze at the door.

"Dear, God!"

"Am I sitting on it correctly?"

"Yes... Well, there is no right or wrong way." He came forward, almost mesmerised at the view of his wife sprawled out on the chair; he knelt down by her feet at the lower end and placed his hands upon her knees. They did not rest there for long, for his fingers delicately stroked up and down the front of her thighs several times as he drank in the view. "Do you know how alluring you look? A temptress of the highest calibre; seduction is obviously in your thoughts, and you are not failing in your effort to affect your lover." His voice was laced with desire; he gulped several times as he tried to steady his growing ardour.

Elizabeth's eyes wandered down his body, then almost chuckled when she saw exactly what was growing. She bit her lip, however, as it would not do to laugh at one's husband's awakened pego. Seduction was on her mind, but she could not tempt him without some amount of mischief, for she dearly loved to tease. "I believe I do, Mr Darcy. What if I do this?" she asked, as she slowly splayed her knees. Darcy's eyes grew large and dark as he absorbed the sight; his hand reached out, but Elizabeth snapped her legs shut and so ensnaring his fingers between her knees, which he suddenly retracted in his reflexive response. "Oh, no you don't!"

"Lizzy?" He looked aghast at his wife's caprice. _Did she just offer, then renege?_ She opened them again, but Darcy did not take heed of her previous caution, and she snapped them together once more with a giggle. "Minx!" he exclaimed with some mirth before leaning forward to kiss her knees. Elizabeth sighed as her legs quit their sentry and their cleave to each other was broken.

Darcy took the opportunity. Trailing kisses down the insides of her thighs did what he expected; his wife's playful frolics metamorphosised into docile submission. On seeing her husband move further towards his desire, she heeded his triumphal groan as he took the first taste of her pudic essence. She had only ever experienced his intimate kisses either standing, laying on her back, or slumped in a chair; none allowed her the view she was now experiencing. The design of the chair granted her to observe his actions fully. His attention was indeed meticulous in their endeavours, but slow in their deed. His tongue performed such a languorous service, and his slow ministrations had churned her passions so thoroughly that she bid him to make haste from his tormented pace. "Fitzwilliam… Please!" she cried out in frustration at Darcy's noticeable tardiness.

He shrugged off his robe and threw it to the floor. There was a flurry of limbs as he took the seat on the lower end before raising Elizabeth's feet, which found their resting place upon his shoulders, just as he plunged into her depths. There, in the moonlight, he proved his love for her once more. "With my body I thee worship… I love you, Lizzy," Darcy whispered on feeling Elizabeth hit that moment where everything around them did not exist. It was just the two of them, in a rapturous exaltation as they both reached that exquisite release they craved.

"I love you so much," Elizabeth cried out as she began to weep.

"Why the tears?"

"I do not know... I am just so happy."

Darcy smiled. "I hope we always have this depth of love for each other, Lizzy."

" _I am sure we will,"_ she half laughed through her tears, _"_ _but I doubt I will be able to get into this position when I am in my seventh decade."_ She pointed out as she tickled his ears with her toes; this produced a deep throaty laugh from her husband as he grabbed her foot and placed a kiss on its sole.

It had been a week when two unexpected carriages entered the estate. Darcy had heeded they had company before they entered the park, for the guns sounded at the gatehouse to alert the occupants of an impending visitor. "Are you expecting anyone, Fitzwilliam?" Elizabeth asked as she came out of the library.

"No, not at all." As they stood at the study windows, Darcy recognised the carriages. "That is Uncle's carriage, and the other is Richard's. I do not remember inviting them here."

"Is not Lady Catherine supposed to still be with them? She is not due to return to Kent until the middle of this week!"

"Lord! I hope they have not brought her here. I will not have her in my house, even if she is requesting an interview to apologise!"

Darcy marched out to the vestibule and onto the front steps. As the first carriage pulled to a stop, Richard jumped out. "Sorry, Darce. We come hoping you will take Rebecca in whilst mother, father and I head south."

"What has happened? Is it to do with… you know what," Darcy asked as he mouthed the word 'Bingley'.

"No! It is nothing of that nature. Wait until we are all inside and we will explain."

Darcy had not noticed the black crepe armband that Richard was wearing and it was only when the ladies had descended from the carriage, that both Darcy's observed the black gowns. Elizabeth's heart sunk as she wondered who had died. _Maybe Lady Catherine has succumbed to apoplexy in her fit of anger, or accidentally thrown from the carriage whilst taking a sharp turn?_ She shook the thought from her mind, thinking that even that devil of a woman did not deserve a mortal end to her trip.

Within ten minutes, all were seated in the parlour. "So who has passed away?" Darcy asked. It would not be any of his immediate family, for they were sitting there in his parlour and unlikely to be any of the Davenports as they lived in the North. It must be an important acquaintance for all four to be observing mourning.

"Lady Catherine received an express yesterday with bad news. Anne passed away on Saturday during the night. The parson, Mr Cadwell, wrote immediately urging her to return. Of course, she left straight away, but wished for Richard and myself to follow; we are to travel to Kent and assist with the preparations and will probably remain for at least a fortnight," the Earl explained.

Darcy stiffened. "I hope she is not expecting me to drop everything and oblige."

"No, she did not mention you, but it is best you stay behind as I wish to leave Rebecca in your care. I do not want her anywhere near Aunt Catherine. So, if you could allow her to stay until we return, it would be much appreciated," Richard stated. "Mother will accompany us as she will be a godsend when it comes to appeasing Aunt… To be honest, she should not have left Anne in such a state of illness. What did she achieve by travelling all that way; she arrived late and made such a commotion which upset half the guests."

"Yes, she should not have, but it has happened, and there is nothing that will change that. It is not as if she can go back in time and correct her actions," argued the Earl.

"You do realise that neither myself nor Elizabeth will be wearing mourning attire. She has not long been out of half mourning, and I do not think it is necessary for either of us to observe Anne's passing when I have not seen her since she was three."

The Earl grumbled, but he knew his nephew was in a foul mood when it came to Lady Catherine. "Fine, I can understand your point of view. It will be of little consequence as my sister will not even be aware of your non-compliance and we are not in Town. I assume you will not even write giving your condolences."

"I will not!"

After the party left for Kent, Elizabeth escorted Rebecca to her room, which was Richard's when he visited. It was three doors along from Georgiana's, and Elizabeth hoped that it was far enough for her not to hear the nocturnal escapades from the master suite. Richard indeed had not taken to reminding them how thin the walls were, so she was confident they were out of earshot. "How is married life, Rebecca?" Elizabeth asked as they found privacy within Richard's rooms.

"They suit me very well; I could not have asked for a dearer and kinder husband."

"So, all the nerves are gone?"

"Oh, Elizabeth, what a fool I was that day. Please forgive me for overreacting to what you said. It is that mother and father have had a very… formal life. Neither of them show any tenderness towards one another and almost live separately."

"I am sure they do not. Otherwise, you would not be here."

"But, remember, I am an only child." This, Elizabeth thought upon. Maybe Lady Davenport was in a similar situation to Lady Matlock; that childbirth risked her life, and she refused to attend to her husband on any regularity from that point on. "I doubt I will have a marriage as they do, Richard is far too attentive towards me," she blushed.

"I think it is something within the Fitzwilliam blood. Remember my husband is also of that bloodline, and I know that Uncle Henry still has a spring in his step; you only have to see him with Aunt Cecilia to know they still love each other dearly."

"Yes, Richard said it was not always like that, but I should not say."

"I know how things have been, but it could not have been easy for either of them. Let us be thankful that we have loving husbands who would not need to go looking elsewhere."

"No, not when there is so urgent a need that they seek out their wife of all but four days in the middle of the afternoon, whilst she is with her housekeeper, stating to said servant that the menus could wait an hour or so as the master's needs took priority over food." Both looked at each other and burst out laughing.

* * *

After dinner, Elizabeth wished to entertain Rebecca and her husband upon the piano. It had been quite some time since she had practised, but as soon as her fingers touched the ivory keys, it felt like second nature. She had not mentioned what piece she would play, but on the first few bars, Darcy sat up straight in his seat, his eyes fixed fast upon his wife, enthralled at her performance; she was singing Adelaide. Rebecca quickly noticed his particular appreciation, even to the point of witnessing a few tears prick in his eyes. As the piece concluded, Darcy stood and met his wife halfway as she returned to her seat next to him. He kissed her tenderly, upon which Elizabeth apologised to their guest for her husband's public display. "He fell in love with me over that piece of music, how can I not accept his affections when he has been moved so?"

"Oh, how romantic. Nothing like how Richard fell." Rebecca was faced with two sets of raised brows so had to elaborate. "No, he literally fell... in front of me. Dickie looked up from his place on the floor and apologised, saying he had been struck by something through the heart when he first caught a glimpse of me. Of course, I did not understand what he was about, so giggled. I think that sealed it. Later that evening, I discovered from mama that he had in fact tripped over Lady Clarissa's pug dog and in an attempt to not fall on top of me from behind, he did a quick turn and ended up flat on the floor at my feet."

"He did not tell me this!" Darcy laughed.

"Oh! Was the dog injured?" Elizabeth asked.

"No, but Richard eventually said he had been. The little snapper bit his ankle as he fell and would not let go of his trouser leg after that, but he did not make a song and dance about it in front of me."

"Should have been wearing breaches with his Hessians; the thick leather would have protected him… Come to think of it, I did notice him limping slightly last summer, but he told me he got onto the horse awkwardly and twisted his foot in the stirrup."

"It did not leave a scar, so could not have been that bad. I believe his pride may have been hurt to the point of leaving the soiree if it was not for me being there; for all Dickie could do for the following hour was follow my father around apologising for his clumsiness."

"And that allowed for an acquaintance to form and so have a connection to you through his new friend."

"Yes, but he did not realise that father knew the Earl from years ago, and was happy enough to get to know the Viscount; judging him on his own merits."

" _Especially with a daughter just out,"_ Elizabeth teased.

"I do not think my father had any worries there, he could see Richard would not take his eyes off of me, even when across the other side of the room… How did you meet?"

"We were children. Elizabeth was five-"

"I was six!"

Darcy grinned.

"And I was thirteen going on fourteen. Elizabeth knew Richard then too, but he only visited a few times before she returned home, then we did not see each other until last year." Darcy did not disclose their father's agreement or the Will; it would not do to say their marriage was one of convenience and not a love match, even though they loved each other now.

"I cannot imagine Richard as a child."

"Oh, he was pretty much as he is now; still fooling around," Darcy replied. "But at least he can reel it in when he wishes to; he enjoys life too much to be serious all the time."

"Rebecca, do you play?"

"Fool around like Richard?" she asked innocently

"No, the pianoforte."

"Oh, I can, but I am not as proficient as you. Father could not bear the noise in the house so was limited to times when he was out. I can sing though."

"That makes two of us; maybe we can do a duet."

"What about a vocal trio?"

"No!" Elizabeth exclaimed in a panic. "Do not wish for my husband's voice!"

"Oh, that bad?" she grimaced.

Darcy grumbled an unintelligible response before requesting the ladies play a duet on the instrument.


	44. Mortal Creatures are We

-0-

"Ha!" Darcy laughed as he read his letter from Wickham at the breakfast table. "Seems the Wickham's have quarrelled and Mrs Wickham has got the upper hand _again,_ " Darcy snorted.

"Why do you say that? Has she stamped her foot once more in defiance of her husband?" Elizabeth asked. Luckily, Rebecca had yet to rise and the servants were not in attendance, which had been the usual practice if the master and mistress were to breakfast alone; this privacy allowed the couple to speak openly.

"Not exactly. It is a secret game George plays with his wife. Unbeknownst to her, his decision to allow Mrs Wickham her own way is fixed even before they start to bicker. George, in general, appreciates her ideas, but he will not let it be known he is happy and plays the perturbed husband so that they can argue."

"But to what end? They will only regret their words afterwards."

"Not in the slightest. Wickham capitulates pretty quickly before things get too seriously out of hand and then abandons his false rage; his wife is quite responsive to his compliance and stays a placid doting lover for days afterwards."

"Do you mean to say he gives false attitude in the hopes to please his wife when he finally agrees with her; she assumes she has persuaded him to change his mind and is very thankful?" Elizabeth was startled at this revelation.

"Yes, _very_ _very_ thankful."

"I hope you do not take such liberties with me, Fitzwilliam. I know we have experienced disagreements, one or two of which have been quite monumental, but I would like to think they were all of true opinions and not falsehoods in the hopes that I play the doting wife afterwards." She sat there, earnestly looking at her husband, who was trying to keep his mirth at bay, but losing the battle against the muscles in his cheeks. "You have! Haven't you!"

"Only the once, and it wasn't the same."

"When?"

"Erm… Before Christmas… The blue dress."

"The one you said did not flatter me; the one you said made my bottom look more voluptuously rotund than it was?" Darcy grinned. "So it did not make me look any different than my other gowns?" Darcy shook his head. "Fitzwilliam! I had to change out of that gown, which made me furious as we were already late for dinner. But how did that resolve itself in the same way? You did not change your mind, and to this day I have refused to wear that dress." Darcy raised a brow. "Insufferable man! You got what you wanted; me out of the dress and you had your wicked way with me up against the dressing room door."

"It worked out just as I had planned," he declared, cocksure of himself.

"It would have been as easy to just kiss my neck, you know that I cannot deny you anything when you do that."

"I will remember that for next time," he laughed, which sent Elizabeth's cheeks aglow. "It was not just that, we made love whilst you were angry. Do you know how aroused I became whilst you were piqued; you almost ripped that dress from your body. You were like a tigress, I can still feel the remnants of the claw marks on my back as you clung to me."

"You deserved them… you… you… lovable, but insufferable man!" She could not be angry with him for long; she came over to where he was sitting and plopped herself onto his lap, which crumpled the paper he had just started to read against his chest. "Lizzy," he chastised, "you will get ink all over your gown. You know how my hands get when I read this."

"Why does Gladstone not iron the papers? Father used to make Mr Hill iron them every morning, it sets the ink."

"I am too eager to read them. I could get them pressed, but I like to read them at breakfast, and you know they are usually a day out of date by the time they arrive here from London."

"Mr Hill is a marvel, he can get them done in ten minutes."

"I suppose I can forfeit ten minutes of reading time so that my wife does not resemble what comes off of a printing press. Now, madam, will you let me get back to my newspaper and you can read your letter." He said as he handed his wife a missive addressed to herself.

Elizabeth looked at the letter; she recognised the handwriting immediately as Charlotte's but was concerned at what it contained.

 _.-._

 _Lucas Lodge_  
 _Hertfordshire_

 _Dear Eliza_

 _It has taken me weeks to bring myself to write to you again. My previous communication was not that of my true self. I cannot help but feel guilty when I think of the fierce viciousness of my words; could you ever forgive me?_

 _At the time, I was so wrapped up in the idea of being married and running my own household, even if it was to be with Mr Collins, I did not think past my own selfish needs. I did not take your words to heart and thought they stemmed from jealousy as I would be mistress of your childhood home._

 _I came to my senses pretty quickly; not because of your words, but how Mr Collins was behaving. I noticed not long after you left Hertfordshire for Pemberley that Mr Collins was beginning to look rather ill. He was stumbling into things, telling me that he did not see what was apparently in front of him. Then the sores started to appear on his face not long afterwards, and on seeing such, I demanded he saw a physician. He refused, so I gave him an ultimatum and withdrew my agreement to marry him if he did not. He conceded to my request, and within a week he was in London, being seen by one of the top doctors. When he returned, he looked ghostly pale. He told me of what he was suffering from; he had admitted to having previous treatments and thought it had cured him of his illness, but it had not._

 _I am not as educated as yourself, but I can detect the signs of Syphilis when I see them. I have read the medical books in my father's book room, and as soon as the scabs started to form, I realised he was also going blind. He already knew of his malady and had for quite some time, but he let himself believe that the mercury treatment he had received years previous had cured him for life, and therefore discounted the returning signs of the disease. I can only surmise that he chose to ignore them and in doing so, infected countless women in the process._

 _I have since learnt that several of his illegitimate children have died either at birth or not long afterwards. Maybe it was God's way to punish them for their bastardy, such a sad situation and one that the small babes did not deserve; they were the guiltless souls in all of this._

 _I am just thankful that I did not so much as kiss him. The thought of how I had escaped such a fate makes me blanch. If the symptoms had been delayed by one more month, then I would have been infected, and no doubt would follow him into the grave._

 _Please, Eliza, forgive me for my foolishness in recent months. I can see now that my actions were not of my own mind, but of a very ruthless and scheming man, a man determined to only please himself by persuading me of his opinions. I am sure he would have attempted to estrange me from my own family after we were married; as you know I would have had to obey my husband, who was set on alienating me from those I loved most. He knew that I would have had nowhere to run if things got tough._

 _As it stands, Longbourn is now empty. The crown has taken control of the property as it is now deemed as Bona Vacantia. I am not sure how it works, but as the entail ended with Mr Collins_ _'_ _demise, you may have a claim as the rightful heir to his estate. Mr Collins spoke of no other relatives, and as his cousin, you will be close enough for the crown to deem as beneficiary._

 _I, therefore, urge Mr Darcy to assist you in making enquiries and suggest this is done as a matter of urgency before the property is put up for auction._

 _I hope you can find it in your heart to absolve me of my recent actions and we can be friends once more._

 _Yours_

 _Charlotte Lucas_

 **.-.**

Elizabeth sat back, staring into space and unable to utter a word. Darcy noticed the quietness that had formed in the room and peered over the top of his newspaper. "What is the matter, Elizabeth?" he asked, concerned at his wife's drained complexion.

"Mr Collins is dead," she replied whilst still staring into space. She looked over at her husband and handed him the letter. "Charlotte has told me all. She says we should apply to see if I will inherit, for there is no other male heir."

"The property is owner-less?" Darcy gasped.

"It looks that way. Do you suppose I could inherit?" Elizabeth asked.

"I am not sure, but if you do not, would you wish for me to purchase it? I am sure it will go quite cheap, as the crown would want to get rid of it quickly. I can purchase the property and lease it out so it will stay in the family, and we will get a guaranteed income from it... Or _you_ will."

"I understand the entail ended with Mr Collins demise. I would not wish for any restrictions put on it in the future if we were to secure it."

"That is not a problem. I believe whoever put the entail on in the first place were looking out for fortune-hunting husbands seducing their daughters, just so that they could claim ownership."

"Oh, I did not think if it like that. Shame that my forefathers did not provide a property for any surplus family left over when the new owner threw the old inhabitants out. Something like a dower house, but for the whole family."

* * *

The fortnight passed but still no return of the Kent party. It was not until the end of the second week when Darcy received word from Richard, stating he would arrive a week from Tuesday, sometime in the afternoon. He had written indicating his mother and father would be remaining in Kent as 'all hell had broken loose' and Lady Catherine was not to be left on her own.

As per the missive, the carriage pulled up outside of Pemberley's entrance at two o'clock on the following Tuesday. Richard descended from the vehicle, exhausted, and in need of a stiff drink. "Things cannot have been that bad," Darcy stated.

"I do not know if I come with good or bad news, but I am glad to be here," was his cousin's response.

Darcy pointed to the parlour and study doors, requesting that Richard choose their destination. "Study, Darce, for I need a brandy before I tell you all. Is Beckie at home?"

"She is out in the grounds with Elizabeth. My wife has recently taken to walking at least a mile a day; they should not be too long."

"That will do both of them good… Keep their muscles toned," Richard winked.

"So, what news?"

"Well, you will never believe what I have to say. We all thought that Aunt Catherine and Anne had joint ownership of Rosings and that Uncle Lewis had arranged it that way so when one died, the other could remain as part owner until they passed. The deceased's share would come to me with a stipulation attached that the surviving relation would have lifelong occupancy and I, as owner, would have no choice but to oversee the running of the estate; pretty much what I have done since the age of one and twenty."

"And it does not?"

"No. To our shock, the solicitor stated that Anne had owned Rosings outright since Uncle Lewis died; he had left everything to her, lock, stock, and barrel; the only exception was Aunt Catherine's jointure which Uncle Lewis had arranged as part of their marriage settlement.

"She led us all a merry dance with her deception, and we believed her claims of part ownership without proof of documentation all these years when she did not. She must have got Anne to sign all the paperwork as and when it was needed without anyone else knowing… Well, the solicitor knew, but none of the family had dealings with him; another scheme of Aunt's so that her ruse was not discovered.

"Without anyone aware of her actions, Anne had changed her Will, even Aunt Catherine did not know this until it was read last week. This must have all happened in the last year as the witnesses are recent additions to the household including Anne's physician, who was kept on a retainer. Father said that only this sort of thing could have come about whilst Aunt was not in residence and looking at the date of the Will; it confirmed that Aunt was in London during the season at the time." Darcy remembered that she had spent a week at his Uncle's house whilst he had travelled to Hertfordshire.

"Ha! So she left it to some poor workhouse or the lowly parishioners at Hunsford? The Doctor did not get it, did he?"

"No, she left it all to you, ol' chap. You are now the proud owner of Rosings Park and Lady Catherine's worst nightmare."

Darcy sunk into the chair. "But why?"

"Well, that is something Anne has to tell you. She left you a letter within the documents." Richard handed over the sealed papers and left Darcy alone to read it. "I will try and find my lady as I have missed her so. I will return in an hour or so."

Darcy looked down at the missive; the seal showed a sizeable impressive ADB embossed upon the wax. With shaky hands, he opened the letter and instantly noticed it was dated the month prior to her passing. _She could not have written this herself, it must have been dictated,_ he thought.

* * *

 _Dear, Cousin Fitzwilliam._

 _It seems strange to address you as such, but a cousin you have always been to me, even though my mother saw to it that we never enjoyed each other_ _'_ _s company._

 _We have both been innocents in this game our parents have played. If only they took into account our own thoughts on the matter, we would not have been estranged all these years. I knew you did not wish to marry me, and I certainly did not want to burden you with a sickly wife, but my mother was insistent that we did the honourable thing and wed._

 _We are supposed to love our parents dearly, but I must admit that I cannot. During most of my life, as a child and then into adult life, I have assumed the role of unwanted invalid within the family. You would think that being as poorly as I am, my mother would have been concerned. However, Lady Catherine had all but locked me away in this mausoleum of a house with no outside contact, month in month out, and with little food to sustain a weakened body; it was almost as if she wished me away so that she could get her hands on what she truly wanted. Rosings._

 _The only occasions I had been allowed any freedom was when mother took to parading me about, telling everyone that if I were not so ill, I would have been proficient in whatever she was talking of at the time, then once her contrivance ran its course, I would be returned to my confinement. During those times, I had contemplated on seeking help, but she was always there to suppress any attempt._

 _Unbeknownst to my mother, I have been able to bear the solitude, and it does have its benefits. After discovering last year that Lady Catherine had, for years, industriously circulated a falsehood stating she partly owned Rosing, I became angry. So angry, in fact, that I wished to remove her as the beneficiary of my Will._ _'_ _Who else could I leave it to?' I thought to myself. The only person that came to mind was the cousin who had, like me, been so illy treated by her; that being yourself, Fitzwilliam._

 _Whilst she was in Town, I was able to conduct business from my bed, with the assistance of my physician, Doctor Hemingsworth. I managed to persuade him to employ a local solicitor with the intent of changing my Will, as mother had previously forced me to leave everything to her once I had died. So, with as much secrecy as possible, I wrote a new Will; this was only after the doctor had tested my mental capacity and deemed me of a cognitive state. I also ensured the whole interview with the solicitor was witnessed by half a dozen people, so that Lady Catherine could not attempt to overthrow the document once I was gone, stating that it was invalid on whatever grounds she could think of._

 _The reason for this letter is to explain the above, but I also have one last request, and you may think me a wicked woman for asking. By the time you read this, I will be no more and what thoughts you or the family may have of my decision will not affect me._

 _I wish for my mother to be given notice to quit, after which I request you to sell the property and all its contents, including the entire equipage, livestock, jewels, furniture and books. Everything belongs to me. She may leave with her clothing, which will need to be packed by a trusted servant, and her wedding band from my late father, but nothing more. From my understanding, my mother has a small sum of money in her own name, five thousand pounds I believe, and her jointure from father will give her a monthly allowance. She owns a cottage in the Cotswolds, which father had purchased as a wedding gift for her, so she may live there if no family member wishes to take her into their protection._

 _The proceeds from the sale of Rosings is yours to do with as you want, with the exclusion of aiding my mother in her future requirements. You may care to invest the money for your children_ _'_ _s future as I am sure you will have plenty of sons and daughters with Elizabeth, whom I understand from Richard's correspondence is rather a beauty._

 _I hope Uncle Henry will not hound you into doing what is_ _'_ _right.' I have also left a letter for him, explaining my intentions and ask for him not to be so hard on you, when you are only carrying out my wishes._

 _May God bless you._

 _Anne._

-0-

Darcy sat there for nearly an hour, reading and rereading the small note. How the devil was he to sell the estate without argument, but then he remembered being in Lady Catherine's presence at Clifton House and how she treated Elizabeth to the point of his wife becoming ill. As he was deep in thought, the door opened.

"Elizabeth?" he almost whimpered.

"Richard just told me. What are you to do?"

"Anne wants me to throw her mother out and sell everything."

"But how can you? She will be penniless."

"No. Lady Catherine will not be so poor as to seek help, but she will be reduced to a modest living from what I can see. But how can I?"

"You cannot refuse your dead cousin's wish," Elizabeth soothed.

"I know I cannot. I know I will not. If only things had been different; that poor thing."

A tear trickled down his cheek as Elizabeth came forward. She offered the black crepe armband and Darcy took it without hesitation; he knew it was now time to mourn.


	45. Rosings

-0-

"My love, I fear that I must travel to town to tend to this matter," Darcy sighed his resolution as they lay in bed that night.

"Do you not think your attorney can handle it without you being there?"

"I could ask him to deal with it via correspondence, but it will be much easier and quicker if I were there. As it is, there will be numerous letters back and forth, and I wish for this whole matter to be dealt with in a timely manner."

"How long will you be gone?" Elizabeth could not hide her dispiritedness at being parted from her husband. It would be the first time apart from one another.

"I do not know. Even at a relentless pace, it will be at least a fortnight, if not a month, where it can be completed to a satisfaction and I can leave it in the capable hands of Mr Pearce. The whole estate will need to be surveyed, and the books studied to gauge a price before it can be put on the market. Then, there is Lady Catherine's removal; I do not think she will go willingly." Darcy watched as Elizabeth looked positively crestfallen. "I hope you are not under the impression that I will be going alone; you will be travelling with me."

"Oh!" she chirped. "Thank heavens! For I did not wish to be parted from you for so long, my love."

"Elizabeth? You are my wife and where I am, you will be right there by my side."

"Well, right now, my sweet husband, I quite fancy the idea of being on top of you," she giggled.

* * *

So it was that Mr and Mrs Darcy travelled to London at the end of the week.

The day after they arrived in town, they decided to call upon the Gardiners for afternoon tea. Elizabeth had not seen her relations since the wedding, and even though they corresponded frequently, she was eager to be in their presence. "Come in! Come in!" Mr Gardiner insisted as they entered.

"Oh, Aunt, Uncle, it is good to see you both," Elizabeth said as they settled in the parlour.

"It is good to see you both looking so well," said Mr Gardiner. "I hope you have forgiven me."

"For what?" Elizabeth said.

"My having persuaded your husband into quite an important secret. I hope you realise I did it for your own good, but now I see my error."

"Do not trouble yourself, Uncle. I must admit at the time I was angry, but it is all forgotten now. There is no point in dwelling on the past if it only serves to bring despondency." Darcy agreed that it was all water under the bridge now and they can move on without any secrets between them. "And is everyone in good health? Is all going well for you?"

"It most certainly is. Business is booming, and everyone is fit and healthy, although Jemima has lost her first tooth and Jack has started playing the violin. I wish now that I had encouraged a more subtle instrument for it is such a dreadful racket," Mr Gardiner grimaced.

"Where are the children?" Darcy asked.

"They are finishing their lunch in the nursery. It was a little later than usual as Jack fell to sleep and I did not have the heart to disturb him. He was up part of the night being sick as he ate biscuits with his hot milk posset before bed," Mrs Gardiner said as she rolled her eyes. "You will have to be careful when you start a family; do not give into the temptation of the pleading eyes your child will give you."

Elizabeth and Darcy looked at each other, wondering if it was the best time to announce their news; Darcy nodded. "Aunt, Uncle, that may be sooner than you think. We are expecting a little Darcy at the end of summer," Elizabeth cooed as she held her belly.

"That is marvellous news!" Mrs Gardiner cried.

"Congratulations to you both and I hope it is a boy!" Mr Gardiner stated with a wink to Darcy.

"I do not mind either way, so long as he or she is healthy."

"Who's healthy?" came a small voice from the doorway; Jemima had just arrived. "Oh! Lizzy! And Mr Rirrium!"

Elizabeth smiled at the little girl's mispronunciation. "I am having a baby, and Mr Darcy was wishing its health."

"Why would it not be? It will be new and not bloken. Mama says that I have to get one of my dolls mended as its bloken."

"Oh, what is wrong with it?" Darcy asked in a soft tone. Elizabeth's eyebrows raised with surprise at him making conversation with a six-year-old, then remembered the age gap between the two Darcy siblings; it must seem quite normal to him as he would have been an adult when Georgiana was Jemima's age.

"It has a bloken head. Jack decided to swing her around by her hankles, and it smashed into the wall and gave her a headache."

"Oh, what a shame. Maybe we can take her to the doll hospital and get her a new one."

"That is what mama was going to do, but I don't want any old head, I want her to look like Lizzy." Darcy turned to his wife and smiled at the thought of their little one being just like her mother. He was hoping for a miniature replica of his wife too.

"Mr Rirrium?" Jemima started to ask.

"It is Fitzwilliam, and you do not need to say the Mister, as he is your cousin," Elizabeth explained slowly.

"Oh! Rirrium, can I sit on your lap?"

"Jemima! You can not go asking guests that," Mrs Gardiner stated.

"Why ever not?" she pouted. "Is he not my cousin also? Lizzy just said he was, and I used to sit on her lap." Darcy held his arms out, and Jemima climbed up. "Look, I lost a tooth. I can stick my tongue through the gap, see!" she said as she grinned broadly.

"And where is the tooth now, can I see?" Darcy asked. "Did you keep it?"

"No. Mama rubbed salt on it whilst we sang a song, then mama threw it into the stove. I wanted to keep it, but she said it should be burnted... Rirrum? You don't feel as comfortable as papa; he's all squishy and soft."

"Jemima!" Mrs Gardiner gasped. "You should not say such things about papa."

"But he is," she insisted. "Are you wearing a corset like mama, Rirrium?"

"No, that is just me," he chuckled.

As she settled against his chest, Darcy brought his arms around and enfolded her into his embrace. Elizabeth watched as the little girl blissfully closed her eyes, hoping to fall to sleep in his hold.

"You do realise you have made a lifelong friend there," Elizabeth whispered.

"I have to get practice in where I can," Darcy replied with a smile.

* * *

It had been a week since their arrival in town when the new London butler came into the study, where Darcy was scrutinising the Rosings ledgers; Elizabeth had taken to resting in her rooms after a rather rough morning of sickness. "Sir, the Earl of Matlock is here to see you."

"Send him in, Hudson. Can you ask Mrs Bridges to arrange some tea and pastries."

The Earl came in, but his face was grim. "Darcy, you are serious about Anne's instructions. Can I not persuade you to let your aunt remain on the estate. She does not need to draw from the income."

"I am sorry, Uncle, but you know it was Anne's last request. I cannot go against her wishes."

"But where is Lady Catherine to live? She cannot be left in the Cotswolds all alone."

"She does not need to live alone. I looked into her finances, and the jointure Sir Lewis arranged is one and a half thousand pounds a year. Enough to at least have a companion as well as a number of servants. I understand the cottage is not overly large, so she will not need more than a couple of maids, a manservant, a cook, and a housekeeper. Besides all this, she lived alone at Rosings, did she not?" Darcy stated, hoping his gibe filtered through.

"You have made your point, nephew. But surely you cannot expect her to move with such haste? She has just lost her daughter, and to evict her from the home she has had for decades is rather unforgiving of you."

"You know I am only following Anne's wishes which were fueled by her mother's behaviour. Do you think Anne would have changed her Will if she was not treated as an unwanted nuisance? If aunt had loved her daughter as much as any other parent, then she would probably be the owner of Rosings, not I."

"At least give her some of the money from the sale."

"Anne has stipulated that I cannot. She has covered every angle in her letter so that her mother is left wanting, and I assume this is to teach Lady Catherine a lesson."

"It looks as though I have no choice," the Earl huffed. Seeing Darcy's brows scrunch in confusion, he elaborated. "She will have to come and live with me and Aunt Cecilia, that is if you can persuade my sister to remove herself from her bedchambers."

"You will not have to offer such an arrangement; she is better off than most. Do you know that Elizabeth had nothing other than her dowry when her father died, and if it were not for the arrangement, she would probably be married to someone beneath her station in life, or worst still, working her keep."

"She had her relatives, whom I understand took her in, which is what I will be doing."

"I said, Elizabeth had nothing. Her dowry was locked away in investments until she married, and all she had was a small trunk of clothes and a few personal keepsakes. No money, no property, nothing. She was only one and twenty and had lost the only family she knew. Aunt at least has the means to live comfortably. If she feels the hardship of living so secludedly, then she could lease out her cottage, and with the allowance she gets from the jointure, rent a small house in town."

"There is no persuading you?"

"No, so you have had a wasted journey."

"Not if those are for me," he eyed the tea tray as Mrs Bridges came in, followed by Elizabeth.

"Uncle Henry!" she chirped. "Please accept my apologies for not receiving you properly when you arrived. I have been rather unwell this morning," she pouted as she rubbed her stomach.

"Ah! Experiencing sickness from the baby. Cecilia had that with Richard; made her ill for about three months, so hopefully you will be well again soon, my dear," the Earl soothed.

"I hope so too," Elizabeth stated eagerly as she spotted the pastries.

* * *

The following week saw Darcy make a trip to Rosings. On this occasion, it was not to Elizabeth's benefit to accompany him, as he was unsure what he would find at the house. So, it was agreed that Elizabeth would spend a few days with his aunt and uncle, who had yet to return north.

As Darcy had expected, Lady Catherine declared she would not venture from her rooms until a promise was made that she could remain. Of course, Darcy was unwilling to grant her this and therefore made it be known that he would venture into the neighbouring estate, hoping to seek the assistance of the local magistrate.

Just the hint of such action, forced Lady Catherine from her rooms the day before this undertaking. "You will get no luck from that quarter; Lord Elmsleigh is a great friend of mine and will see to it that _you_ are thrown from this house," she bellowed from across the study.

Darcy had taken to retreating to that particular room since his arrival and had been checking the day to day household accounts when she appeared in the doorway. "Lady Catherine, I am only doing what your late daughter wished. I am now the owner of this estate as well you know, and as such, you are the temporary guest here, not I. Do not think me a simpleton in assuming you are ignorant of this, for were you not present when your daughter's Will was read? Even if Anne had not requested I sell Rosings, I doubt I would have done differently. It is best you leave of your own accord without the need for brute force, so I suggest you pack your things and be gone!"

"How dare you talk to me in that manner! I am your aunt! Have some respect!" she stated as she pounded her walking cane onto the floor with each word.

"An aunt who removed herself from my life when I was but a boy, with no explanation to me as to why. Do you think I have any respect for someone such as yourself, who only thinks about her own desires and wants?" Darcy now stood up tall from behind his desk; his knuckles planted firmly on the polished wooden surface as he leaned forward. His stance was now powerfully formidable. "You made Anne's life a misery, and I am here to seek retribution for your transgression towards my cousin."

"She was ill. I could do nothing to improve her health; the doctor said it was incurable."

"But!" he snapped, "you could have made her short life full. You had the means; you had the power to see to it that she was comfortable and well entertained. But no, all you thought of was yourself and I am now beginning to understand why you so desperately wanted me to marry Anne. I would have taken her off of your hands when we departed for Pemberley, and she would not have been a burden to you any longer! Not so much as gaining a son, aunt, but ridding yourself of an unwanted daughter," he stated as he cocked a challenging brow.

Lady Catherine stood there aghast. She attempted to say something in reply to the accusations thrown at her, but Darcy only witnessed what resembled a gulping cod face. Yes, he had discovered her plan.

Little did Lady Catherine know, but Darcy had already called the staff together when he arrived. His instruction was for the house to be prepared for closure. Sheets were to be placed on all the furniture and the doors locked; any keys in their possession or found were to be given to him. As an incentive to the staff, he let it be known that when it came to selling Rosings, it would be with a contingency that the servants be kept on for at least a full year. This information, he hoped, would give the staff pause for thought as to which side their bread was buttered. It was unanimous that upon reflection of the two choices, Mr Darcy was the favoured head.

In light of Lady Catherine's refusal to leave, a specific request had been assigned to the mistresses abigail. Lottie was to steel away any keys that Lady Catherine had without her knowledge. If by chance, her mistress was to remove herself from her rooms, the maid was directed to secure those parts, so debilitating Lady Catherine's attempts to retreat to her self-imposed haven.

A valise had been pack and brought downstairs as the argument persisted, and as the heated discussion ran its course, the carriage pulled up outside of the front entrance. As Lady Catherine turned to leave, Darcy had to announce her imminent departure. "You will not be returning to your rooms. The carriage is outside with some of your belongings; the rest will be sent on later. You must leave now!"

"I will do no such thing! I will return to my rooms and have you return my belongings to me!"

"That will not be possible. You will not get into your suite as the servants have locked all the doors."

"HOW DARE YOU!"

"Oh, I dare, Lady Catherine." And with that, Blakeney came into the vestibule from downstairs in the servants quarters and ushered the woman out the front door.

"THIS IS PREPOSTEROUS!... I WILL BE SPEAKING TO THE EARL ABOUT THIS!... I WILL NOT BE MMANHANDLED!... GET OFF OF ME, YOU GREAT OATH!" she screamed as Blakeney stood firmly behind her with his arms out as though he was a sheepdog shepherding its flock.

Darcy sat back down and huffed out his relief; she was gone. However, he soon realised that Lady Catherine would seek refuge at her brother's, where Elizabeth had taken one of the guest rooms. With much haste, he had a horse saddled and made his way to town as fast as his beast would take him. Luckily, it was not long before Darcy passed the de Bough carriage on the turnpike and was in town ahead of them by at least ten miles. With little explanation, he decamped his wife from the Earl's protection and took her back to Darcy house. "I will have to leave you again, my love. Lady Catherine may attempt to return to Rosings, and I need to finalise my investigations before I come home. I should be able to do this in a few hours, so will spend the night at Rosings, then return."

"May I come with you?" she asked. "Now that Lady Catherine is gone, there is no concern for me; we could take the carriage."

"You will be rather bored, Elizabeth," he soothed.

"And I will be rather bored here, without you. Please?" she pouted.

As Fitzwilliam Darcy was never able to refuse his wife when she looked at him a certain way, he agreed.

* * *

"Oh! I believe I have been here before," Elizabeth stated as she looked out of the carriage window. "Father and I toured the house on one of its open days," she chuckled. "This is the house that had the massive fireplace with three grates within its hearth. Father was insistent that its owner was in need of a head examination and in want of more than one shawl."

"I remember you telling me of that, but did not realise it was Rosings."

"I did not remember the name of the estate, and it must be similar to many houses in Kent. What a coincidence."

"Yes, but it will not be in my possession for long. It will be sold, and I will not hold out for a high bid. I want rid of the damn thing."

"I am sure you do, but I would like to spend my time looking about the place; there may be some bits of furniture we could take back to Pemberley."

"I doubt it, you do not remember its extravagance, do you?"

"Only the fireplace, as father had made a point of its ridiculousness."

As they entered the house, Elizabeth noted the door to the left was open and ventured into the room; it was the study which Darcy had been using during his stay. "So this is the only room open downstairs?"

"It is now. The only other room in use is one of the bedchambers upstairs which I have been using. I think it was the one Richard stayed in when he visited annually as there are a few of his belongings still in situ; I will need to return those to him before the house is sold. I also found some other items I think can be taken," Darcy stated as he pointed to a large wooden crate next to the desk.

"Oh, for Jemima?" Elizabeth asked as she found the box full of dolls and other children's toys, including a dolls house and music box."

"Yes, I doubt Jack would have any use for such things. They must have been Anne's, but I am not sure why they had been kept."

"Some ladies do tend to keep their treasured childhood toys."

"I tend to believe that Anne never really grew up. Her mother kept her hidden, unless it was to her advantage, so she never really mixed with society to gain any maturity." Darcy's brows scrunched together as a surge of guilt hit him. "If only I could have done something to ease her pitiful existence."

"You could not have. The only person who could have made things right was her mother. Do not go fretting over 'what ifs', Fitzwilliam. I know you too well, and I can see that you are taking this whole matter as your own fault when it is not."

Darcy gave his wife a weak smile; he could not bring himself to be joyous over the whole matter, even if he had got some sort of revenge on his aunt.

* * *

:)


End file.
